#because the last time we argued it was six weeks of emotional damage that i am still really messed up from

[jimines]

.

[thebiscuiteternal]

(oh look, I thought to post one here before adding it to ao3)

“A Happy End To An Unhappy End”

Canon Character Death, Non-Canon Character Death, Timeline Divergence, Family Angst, Politics Are A Headache, Line of Succession, PTSD, Look I Swear It’s Sweet, Trust Me

__________

When Nie Haoran's saber shattered, everyone knew he was on borrowed time. No amount of qi manipulation or medicines or spiritually-infused music would heal the damage that had been done.

So when, six months later, Lan Qiren receives word that his old friend has finally suffered one last fatal turn in his slow qi deviation, he is not surprised.

What makes his legs go weak enough that he has to sit down immediately, presence of others be damned, is the news Nie Haoran did not go to his end quietly. 

The news that seven of the senior disciples were killed trying to restrain their maddened sect leader.

The news that Nie Mingjue is also among the dead, killed trying to restrain his maddened father.

The news that Nie Huaisang was seriously injured in the beginning of the melee, and the healers fear he might not survive the night without extra assistance from outside the sect.

That last sentence yanks him back out of his shock and sends him rushing for the infirmary in the hopes that at least one life might be saved from this disaster.

—

The first time he sees Nie Huaisang with his own eyes is at the funeral. As is their sect custom, all nine of the fallen are being honored together despite their difference in stations, and Nie Huaisang is a small silent ghost between the coffins of his father and brother.

The voluminous mourning robes swallowing him whole hide the bandages over what will undoubtedly turn into new scars.

One moment slower, one of the shaken healers had told Lan Qiren when they returned from Qinghe. Had Nie Mingjue been even one moment slower in yanking his brother back from the downswing of the saber their father had taken off a surprised guard, all three of the inner family would be dead.

As it is...

As it is...

Regarding the boy's empty-eyed stare, undoubtedly a combination of emotional shock and a great deal of pain medication, Lan Qiren finds himself seeing his nephews in his place, kneeling quietly as they wait for a mother they’ll never see again.

He closes his eyes and inhales slowly, then tilts his head towards Lan Yuzhi, another one of the healers who'd been here just three painfully short weeks ago.

"Has the sect decided what they're going to do about the empty sect leader seat?"

Lan Yuzhi winces.

Lan Qiren frowns at the reaction. 

"It's... a little bit of a mess right now," Lan Yuzhi finally admits after a few moments of struggling for a polite description. "Everyone agrees Nie-er- excuse me, Nie-gongzi is too young to fully inherit, so there will have to be an interim leader until he's of a more appropriate age, but... well..."

"Nobody wants to be the interim," Lan Qiren deducts.

"Exactly. Right now, it looks like Nie Hengbai is more or less going to be stuck with the role just because he was the first to stop digging his heels in, and he only did so because the arguing was causing Nie-gongzi stress."

Lan Qiren had only met the man three times and didn't have much of an impression of him that he was very much a typical Nie in appearance, but the fact that he would take on a politics game he clearly wanted no part of in order to spare his young relative further misery was certainly a point in his favor... in his admittedly biased opinion.

—

Even if he isn't so sure about the man's methods.

"Is this really necessary?" he asks as he watches Nie Huaisang clamber into the chair at the right hand of his temporary sect leader.

"You teach your way, we teach ours," Nie Hengbai replies bluntly. “Letting him see what he’s in for will help him prepare.”

Nie Mingjue hadn't been sitting in on sect leader meetings at nine years old, Lan Qiren almost says, but quickly bites his tongue.

Because when Nie Mingjue had been nine years old, the possibility of having to take over the sect was still a decade away. The youngest leader of the Nie on record at the time had been eighteen. How old will Nie Huaisang be when it’s decided he’s old “enough”? 

For that matter, it has only been a month since the funeral, and Lan Qiren does not want to hurt the boy by bringing his brother up in such a manner so soon.

The others arrive one by one and while Jiang Fengmian and a few of the minor sect leaders also seem perturbed by Nie Huaisang's presence, none of them say a word about it and restrict themselves to the occasional uncomfortable glance in his direction.

Jin Guangshan’s reaction is the exact opposite; he outright snorts in amusement at the sight of such a small boy sitting among them as if he belongs there, and even the sharp glares Lan Qiren and Nie Hengbai send his way only cause him to hide his smirk behind his fan.

Wen Ruohan does not attend the meeting at all.

—

There are approximately five hundred and seventeen rumors concerning Wen Ruohan and the Nie sect currently traveling the winds of the jianghu, and Lan Qiren has heard all of them.

He does not engage in discussing any of them, and makes his displeasure known with anyone who tries to get him to do so, but making note of anything that might be a potential headache down the road if it turns out to be true is a different matter.

For example:

Rumor number seventy-three is that Nie Huaisang’s survival was a mistake Wen Ruohan intends to rectify; that assassins have already been caught at the Unclean Realms.

Rumor number seventy-four is that there were no assassins, but kidnappers instead; that Wen Ruohan intends to mold the little Nie heir into a puppet sect leader.

The only thing he has confirmed with his own eyes so far is that Nie Huaisang seems to have been irreparably changed by the circumstances of losing his family. The boy who would once greet everyone with a cheeky grin and a laugh and a half-serious bow is now a silent little doll staring from behind the shield of a fan, pale green eyes watching every adult in the room, even his own distant uncle, as if they are a potential threat.

He is, unfortunately, proven correct.

—

The banquet to open the conference is lively, as they always are in Lotus Pier. Jiang Fengmian’s children and odd new little ward have taken an interest in Nie-xiao-zongzhu and are doing their best to ply him with local dishes under the watchful eyes of Nie Hengbai and Yu-furen.

No one catches the glint from just across the water, until a sharp snap gets everyone’s attention.

Only a hao away from piercing between Nie Huaisang’s ribs from behind is a broken arrow.

Held by Nie Huaisang’s own shadow.

Before anyone can react, a shape that is Not-Quite-A-Bear and Not-Quite-A-Tiger emerges from Nie Huaisang’s shadow, and as Yu-furen rushes to grab her children and Nie Hengbai moves to grab Wei Wuxian and his not-yet-sect leader, the shape shakes itself like it has climbed out of the lakes, roars, and launches itself out of the window.

The dying screams of the would-be assassin are almost drowned out in the panic that erupts in the banquet hall.

The uproar is split between those who are trying to set up wards, those who are rushing out to flush out any other assassins who might be hiding around the main lake, and those who are just trying to get anywhere they think might be a safer place to be. 

A low rumble cuts through the chaos, and Lan Qiren watches, stunned, as the Not-Bear-Not-Tiger passes through their wards as smoothly as smoke and lumbers towards the middle of the banquet hall.

Where Nie Huaisang stands, having not fled with the other children.

“Sang-er, what are you doing?! Run!” Nie Hengbai calls in alarm, drawing his saber to intercept the creature before it can get to the boy, but it passes around him as easily as it passed the wards and-

-ducks its head to gently butt against Nie Huaisang’s chest, docile and affectionate as an old dog.

With everyone frozen, the creature makes that same deep rumbling noise again -not a growl, not a purr, some melding of both- and Nie Huaisang-

Nie Huaisang smiles, throwing his arms around as much of the creature’s neck as he can reach and tilting his head to rest his cheek between its ears.

Even from across the room, even with the boy’s voice clearly weak from disuse, Lan Qiren can hear the whispered words as clear as the ring of the morning bell.

“I missed you too, Da-ge.”

[animebookworm16]

Who Are You? - Angst

For @j3ssisam3ss

This is my angst piece for @maribat-angst-fluff-april, prompt 25 Childhood Friends

It was the middle of winter in Gotham when she showed up. A tiny girl everyone guessed to be about three. She never spoke or made a sound, but she often smiled, even on the coldest nights. The little girl would just curl up to whoever had taken her that day and smile. At first the other homeless believed she'd never make it to spring. But the little girl was full of surprises. Not only did she survive the worst of the winter, she thrived once spring arrived.

Everyone knew she had a name, no one knew what it was, but they knew she had one. They also knew she was old enough to know it. Surprisingly, no one ever tried to give her a new name. Sure she got nicknames. More nicknames than a toddler could ever hope to keep track of, but somehow she did.

The little girl grew. As all children must. And the older children and adults always made sure to enunciate whenever she was in the area, hoping to teach her how to speak. They all banded together, like they always do for the especially young kids, and kept her away from the worst of the drugs, gangs, rogues, and the overall darkest parts of Gotham.  She grew, and most people started calling her Pixie. Their little fairy caused laughter and mischief wherever she went. Even still she rarely spoke, her words as few and far between as they were, were always impactful to whoever she spoke to.

When Jason Todd started living on the street, everything changed. Pixie stuck to his side like glue. She laughed, she started talking, Pixie acted like the entire five years she had been living around Gotham she had been solely waiting for Jason to show up. The ones who raised her would have felt jilted if it hadn't been for how happy the little girl looked. Two years passed and the two ten-year-olds rarely left each other's sides.

Then Jason stole the hubcaps off the Batmobile and Pixie was finally picked up by CPS.

Pixie had to be strapped down by CPS so that she wouldn't hurt anyone. Luckily for her, a young French couple had been passing by when they saw what they were doing, and demanded to adopt the young girl. CPS didn't want to deal with the girl for much longer and agreed. When Tom and Sabine found out she didn't have a name, they quickly named her Marinette Dupain-Cheng and decided her birthday would be the same day they adopted her. 

The newly named Marinette was quickly taken out of Gotham and out of the country as the couple returned to Paris.

She never knew that Jason had been adopted by Bruce Wayne.

Jason was picked up by Batman and quickly adopted by Bruce Wayne. Before long he had taken up the mantle of Robin and was fighting crime.  He looked everywhere for his friend but no matter who or where he asked, no one had any idea. As the months passed, Jason lost hope for ever finding Pixie again.

He would never know that she had been picked up by CPS and adopted by a Parisian couple and taken back to Paris.

In Paris, Marinette always appeared happy, and her new parents were always busy but tried to make time for her. Marinette had taken to wandering Paris. She wanted to be familiar with her new city, even if Tom and Sabine didn't always agree with her new habit.

When she started school, Marinette stayed quiet. Friendly, but quiet. This made her a prime target for the mayor's spoiled daughter Chloe. Marinette allowed it to happen and did nothing to change the status quo. three years passed in this way until suddenly Marinette was seated next to an extremely outspoken girl named Alya, who would absolutely not stand for the status quo, so Marinette filled that space, doing what she'd always done since she'd come to Paris molded herself into what everyone around her wanted. The same day she met her new deskmate, and self-proclaimed bestie, Marinette also became one of the two heroes of Paris, fighting an emotional terrorist who thrived on negative emotions (and just being from Gotham made her a prime target). Marinette became Dame Nuit, with her partner Mister Bug.

She listened to everything Plagg told her, especially the warnings and consequences of using the Black Cat Miraculous.

For the next four years, Marinette would fill every mold she was placed in. The hero, the Guardian, the class president, the perfect baker's daughter, everything. 

Then the consequences started showing up. Marinette knew she had to wrap up Hawk Moth and Mayura quickly. She started pushing it so much that Mister Bug called her out one night and in a single moment of weakness she told him what was happening. What her Miraculous was doing to her.

Mister Bug immediately wanted her to stop and let him give the Miraculous to someone else, but Dame Nuit shut it down saying that even if she stopped now, the damage was done and nothing would change that. In fact, using the Miraculous, while it had started the process, was actually slowing it down. Mister Bug cried when she told him that.

Together they redoubled their efforts to bring Hawk Moth and Mayura down. Of course, Mister Bug insisted on bringing in more permanent heroes, under the guise of keeping one of the two things Hawk Moth was after out of the fight. Dame Nuit then argued that it should be the Ladybug because it's the one that can fix everything which just left them going in circles. But even still she conceded to his request for more backup.

Within six months, Gabriel Agreste and Nathalie Sancoeur had been stripped of their Miraculous and Paris was free to feel their emotions once more. All the Miraculous were returned and Marinette and Adrien revealed their identities to each other.

Adrien stuck to Marinette's side and became an unofficial brother. He helped her as the build-up of chaos in her soul took a physical manifestation, and began to destroy her 

A year after Hawk Moth's defeat Marinette's entire class was granted a trip to Gotham City.

Marinette would have laughed at the irony if she didn't know it would probably be the last place she saw. It was strangely comforting to know that the city that held her most precious memories would also be the place that would hold her last.

In Gotham, Jason grew into a young man. He discovered the woman he thought was his mother wasn't. He tracked down his real mother, then got beaten half to death by the Joker only to be blown up by one of Joker's bombs.

Jason died.

Then Jason was revived by the Lazarus Pits and trained by the League of Shadows. He grew to hate Batman and wanted nothing more than to see the end of the Joker. 

Years later, Jason would return to Gotham only to find he had been replaced and that the Joker was still running free, and alive. Jason tried to kill the new Robin, a kid named Tim Drake, Batman, and the Joker. He managed to end none of them.

Bruce convinced Jason to stick around and one thing led to another and Redhood became part of the Batfamily patrol rotation. He doesn't stay in the manor but he does drop in at least once a month for family dinners at Alfred's request. On the weekends, Jason would take Tim out and teach him how to spot a sniper, an assassin, what different guns look like when someone is trying to hide them, and most importantly, how to defuse a bomb. It becomes a bonding time for the two, but Jason still calls Tim 'Replacement' but now as a term of endearment.

He never forgets Pixie and she is one of the few things that kept him sane during the worst of the Pit Madness.

Then Damian shows up and Jason has no idea how to deal with the tiny Demon Spawn. It's rough going for a while but they all found their ways of bonding and before long they are one large dysfunctional family. 

When Jason turned eighteen, he, Dick, Tim, and Damian welcomed a French class to Wayne Industries for a week-long tour. And that is where he thought he saw someone he would never see again.

Without his permission, Jason called out to her, "Pixie?" It was barely a whisper, but she heard it.

Her head whipped around and she stared at him, "Jason?"

He wanted to say it was a happy reunion. And it kind of was. They hugged. Her class and his brothers stared. Then the tears started. Pixie was smiling but tears were streaming down her face.

One of the other students came over and asked her in French if she was okay. Pixie shook her head and the blond boy asked if there was somewhere she could rest. Jason offered to show them a room. The three of them sat in a quiet room as Pixie cried. She kept leaning into Jason and he wasn't about to stop her. After who knows how long, Pixie dried her eyes and haltingly told Jason what was going on. She told him, how she'd been adopted and went by Marinette now. How she was dying and no one besides Adrien, the blond, knew. How she probably wouldn't make it out of Gotham.

Jason's first reaction was to want to hurt something. His second was to hold Pixie as close as he could and never let her go. Jason cried. 

For the rest of the week everywhere that Pixie went, Jason was close behind. The other Waynes noticed and on the fourth day of their stay, invited Pixie and Adrien to join them for dinner.

There, a not-so-subtle interrogation went down, asking Pixie how she knew Jason. At which point, even Pixie's failing health allowed her to spill so many childhood stories about Jason that even they couldn't resist her knowledge. In return, Jason told Adrien stories he had collected about her as a toddler and little kid. It was the brightest smile Adrien had ever seen on Marinette, and the first real smile Pixie had given Jason all week. He could almost pretend that she wasn't dying.

After dinner Pixie said, "Jason, did I ever tell you about the dream I've had ever since I was a little girl?"

"What dream Pix?"

"I've always wanted to stand at the very top of the Wayne Industries building at dawn, and feel the wind at the top of the world."

"Really?"

Pixie smiled a soft sad smile, "Yeah. Do you think we could do that tomorrow?"

Jason suddenly realized what Pixie was talking about, and had to fight a lump in his throat to answer, "Yeah. Pix. Yeah, we can do that."

Adrien and Pixie stayed the night that night. That morning at about three, Jason woke them up and took them to the top of Wayne Industries. Pixie stood as high up as she possibly could. Adrien and Jason watched her with tears in their eyes. Before long, they were joined by Batman, Nightwing, Red Robin, and Robin, who all wanted to make sure she wouldn't fall. Jason didn't have the heart to tell them they couldn't stop what was about to happen.

As dawn started to creep up on them, Adrien broke down sobbing, begging Marinette to fight a little longer. When the light hit her head, Marinette closed her eyes and smiled. They all saw her start to fade.

Her hands went first. Like dust. As the light increased so did her fading. Before she faded completely, Pixie walked towards them a peaceful smile on her face. Jason was crying now too. His Pixie looked like a ghost.

And as she faded completely, everyone on that roof heard her say, "My name is Jeanette. It's so nice to meet you!"

[ilovemesomekillianjones]

Navigating the Storm (1/4)

Summary: Emma Swan navigates the aftermath of Neverland by trying to deal with everything the way she always has, by locking all her feelings away. Between having to share Henry with two other people now, her parents confession in the Echo Caves, her parents pushing her towards a man she has no interest in, and feelings for another man that she never expected to feel, Emma is at the end of her rope. *Post Neverland - No Curse*

Author’s Note:  Thank you to my friend @hollyethecurious for beta reading this story for me! I have had this written for about three months now and have finally put on the finishing touches. This is part 1 of 4 - I will post a chapter a week. Hope you guys enjoy!

Rated M          4.5K          ao3           ffnet          Under the cut, promise

It had been exactly two weeks since they’d stepped foot back in Storybrooke, since bringing Henry home safely from Neverland. Two weeks in which Emma Swan had had very few chances to just be, to just breathe. Each breath felt like it was choked by the need to scream or cry. Two weeks of restless nights and emotionally fraught days; parents urging her toward a man she did not want, her mom wanting a new baby, another mom wanting her baby, not that she held anything against Regina. Henry was as much Regina’s as he was hers, she knew that, but that didn’t mean it didn’t weigh heavily on her soul. And of course there was Neal, who had been an ever-present thorn in her side during the last two weeks. 

Emma wanted to blame everything on Neal, it would be so easy, but she couldn’t do that, there was rarely only one person to blame. She had to take some responsibility, too. He’d been bugging her about giving their relationship another shot, about putting aside the past to make a better future for Henry. Each time, Neal’s words would hit the solid mass of her thick skull and bounce right off, while simultaneously invoking a silent wrath in her being. What the everloving fuck was he thinking? How could the two of them being together be good for anyone? It didn’t help that her parents both still thought Neal was a saint. It didn’t help that each time they unwittingly made little comments about her giving him a chance, it felt like a little more of the world weighed on her shoulders. 

Each morning she dragged her feet getting out of bed, if only to delay dealing with the barrage of shit she didn’t want to hear about or deal with. Of course, if she was honest with herself, she’d admit the reason she was feeling like this was because she was effectively not dealing with any of it. But why choose now to be honest with herself, she’d been content to ignore every other issue she’d dodged in life, abandonment, intimacy, self-worth, why stop now?

Emma hadn’t felt emotional sadness like this since the days between finding out she was pregnant in prison and knowing she would have to give her baby up. Her body felt heavy, her mind felt clouded, and her soul was just… sad, there wasn’t a better word for it. She hated this feeling, and when the sadness became too overwhelming, anger often surged in, and no one needed an angry Emma Swan around. She loved her family and her family-by-extension, but she needed a break. 

As she walked toward Granny’s at a molasses slow pace, hands shoved in her jacket pockets, head down, where she was meeting her parents, Neal, Henry, and Regina for a late dinner, her eyes filled with tears. She struggled to inhale air past the lump forming in her throat. A deep anger rose within her, mostly because she was pissed at herself for wanting to cry. She didn’t know how to make everyone understand what she was feeling and why she was feeling it. No one had ever taught her the healing power of communication, while growing up in foster care. As the anger finally defeated the desire to cry, Emma Swan did what all responsible folks do and locked that shit up, deep inside where no one would see it. 

“I saved you a seat, Ems,” Neal offered as she entered the diner.

 “Yeah, look mom, right between me and dad,” Henry piped in.

Emma glanced at the six of them, one seat between Neal and Henry, no doubt by design and one seat at the other end of the table by her dad. “Uh, I have to discuss a case with David,” she lied. And boy did that make her feel like Shittiest Mom of the Year. “I’ll come back in a few.” 

Taking off her jacket, she sat next to her dad and began speaking with him about the new project they were working on to make Storybrooke Sheriff’s Department digital. There was truly nothing she needed to discuss with him right this instant, but she could not handle another manipulation by Neal, especially in front of Henry, about getting back together. 

“Why don’t you go sit with Henry and Neal,” David whispered, “we can discuss this tomorrow at work.”

Sucking in a deep breath to tamp down the edge of anger that started to creep up on her, Emma realized there was a silver lining here. At least he had whispered.

“I’m perfectly fine where I’m at,” she quietly replied, affecting a sense of calm she didn’t really feel.

“Oh, honey,” her mother began in what was not a whisper, “go sit down there, let me get a picture of the three of you.”

And just like that, there was another brick piled on her shoulders. She understood that her parents really did want what was best for her. Why couldn’t they just magically understand that Neal wasn’t it? She could hear Neal trying to coax her over and her head started to spin. She really did need that break.

As she choked on the sob that wanted to escape, the bell above the entrance rang, and if she’d never experienced what being saved by the bell meant, she was right now. “Hook,” she murmured, just a little more breathlessly than strictly necessary. 

“What?” Snow asked. 

“Hook’s here,” Emma said. “Why don’t you join us for dinner, Hook?” Emma called over to him. He was just the buffer she needed tonight. She didn’t miss the intrigue in his eyes, which he quickly masked with a conciliatory smile that didn’t quite reach those pretty blue eyes.

“While I appreciate the offer, I don’t wish to intrude,” he answered graciously.

“You’re not intruding, we were just sitting down to eat a meal. Everyone has to eat.”

“Well, if all of their Royal Highnesses don’t mind,” he acquiesced.

“Everyone scoot one seat to their right,” Emma instructed, she didn’t expect him to sit next to Neal, not with the current state of affairs. 

Snow stared at her daughter wide eyed and Emma just stared back through narrowed eyes, hoping that her expression conveyed, he did save your husband’s life.

“Ems, I thought you were going to sit with me and Henry,” Neal asked, failing to mask the irritation in his voice.

And I thought I was meeting you with the bag of watches, not the cops, Emma thought bitterly. If Neal was going to use Henry against her, he was going to be sorry. She wasn’t going to stoop to the level of using a child to get what she wanted, but she was also not going to be bulldozed by her ex.

“That’s okay, dad,” Henry intervened. “Mom can sit with her friend. How’s the fastest ship in all the realms, Captain?”

Emma beamed at her son’s cherubic nature. He was truly good. He was innocent and perfect, and she felt like she might cry again as her young son saved her again.

“She’s jolly good, m’boy,” Hook answered merrily, obviously tickled that Henry had asked about his pride and joy. Or maybe it was simply because this boy treated him with common courtesy. Hook had vowed to himself to turn over a new leaf when he’d turned his ship around to help Emma save her son, and although he knew that, most people still treated him like the pirate they’d known him to be. 

“You okay, Swan?” Hook asked her quietly, as conversation started up around the table.

“I- yeah,” she said, slapping on a smile, and even though it was an effort to smile, she found that she wanted to smile for Hook. She also found that he knew she was lying. 

“If you ever want to talk about it, I’ve a never ending supply of rum aboard the Jolly.” 

“I might just take you up on that,” she laughed. And it felt really good to laugh. 

“I thought you said you’d back off,” Neal seethed as he walked over to their end of the table.

Emma looked between the two men before quietly sounding a warning. “We do not need another pissing contest here,” she hissed.

“Contest,” Neal fumed. “There is no contest, I’m Henry’s father, he’s a home-wrecking pirate.”

Emma’s head began to swim again as she listened to Neal berate Hook, as she read between the lines of what he’d said. He felt like he deserved her because they bore a child together. 

“Is everything okay?” David asked.

Emma closed her eyes and weakly shook her head no. She would lose it if her parents got involved.

“Here Neal, why don’t you take my seat,” Snow offered.

Emma shook her head no again, but apparently no one was looking at her. 

“Haven’t you destroyed enough lives?” Neal asked.

Emma’s eyes shot open and she’d hit just about her limit. Her throat felt like it was almost swollen shut as that urge to scream or cry or both, came raging back. 

“Haven’t you done enough damage, Hook?”

“Bae-” Hook started

“Stop calling me that!” 

“Neal,” Hook corrected, “it is not my intent to come between you and Emma. I was merely accepting the invitation she offered. I did say I would back off, I didn’t say I would ignore Emma if she requested my company.”

“Back off from what?” Emma asked, feeling a little annoyed that they’d been discussing her like a - she didn’t know what.

“Swan, I merely told Ba- Neal that I would not interfere if you two decided to pursue a chance at a family with Henry.”

“I think that is very noble, Hook,” Snow inserted. 

“Not now, mom.”

“Well Emma, it’s only fair that you two have a real shot, now that you’ve been reunited,” Snow argued, “and I was just saying that I think it’s noble of Hook to put his feelings for you aside to give you and Neal that chance.”

That was it, that was her limit. Chances? Reunited? FAIR? The lights flickered twice before pitching Granny’s in darkness. Emma stood up and placed both her palms flat down on the table.

“Regina,” Emma said in a ragged voice, barely containing her emotions, which she desperately wanted to contain with Henry present. “Take him home, please.”

“Come on, Henry. I have lasagna at home,” Regina said, without having to be asked again. She could feel the energy of the situation sizzling about, and she knew only too well the magical properties of raw emotion. Of course Henry instinctively knew to listen as well. “Granny’s is closed,” Regina announced, “Mayor’s orders.”  

The several patrons around had the good sense to slap some money on the counter and head out. 

“I love you, mom. I’ll see you tomorrow,” Henry said as he and Regina readied to leave. He came to her end of the table and gave her a hug.

“I love you too, kid,” Emma responded as she ruffled Henry’s hair, and the lights flickered back to life. 

Once Henry and Regina were gone, Emma eyed her parents. She tried breathing in and out slowly. She didn’t want to fight, she didn’t want to hurt them, she didn’t want to cry. But something had to give. 

“Mom, Dad,” she whispered, as she knew her voice would crack if she attempted to speak in a normal voice. “I’ve been having a really-” a broken sob overtook Emma, halting her words. Her face crumbled, tears filling her eyes and falling to her cheeks, as the full weight of what she’d been dealing with overwhelmed her.

“Oh honey,” Snow cried as she stood up to try and comfort her daughter.

Emma held up a hand and shook her head no at her mother. “Please… don’t. I have to do this.”

Snow’s face fell as her daughter rejected her, but she sat back down to comply with her daughter’s wishes.  

“Go on, Emma,” her father said quietly.

Nodding her head, she took another big breath. “I’ve been having a really hard time since we came back from Neverland. I’m happy that you want a new baby, I am, but it also hurt to hear that you wanted to have a chance to experience everything we never got to, and I know that’s not your fault, but it still hurts. And I am happy that Henry has Regina, because no matter what, she really does love him. But it hurts to have to share him with her when we have a third person to share him with now, it’s less time, when I’ve already missed so much.”

“It wouldn’t be if you spent time with me and Henry,” Neal muttered.

“Goddammit, Neal!” Emma yelled, pounding her fists on the table. “You have got to stop that. I’m struggling with my parents wanting a new baby and I am struggling with sharing Henry with you. But my biggest problem, the one that eats away at me every day, is you! I can’t stand the way you try to manipulate me in front of my son, making it seem like I’m the only reason we can’t be a family. You showed up to Storybrooke with a fiancée, don’t act like you came back here to win me over or some other noble bullshit. And I can’t stand that my parents think you should be my happy ending.” Another sob choked her words and she paused to catch her breath. “You will never be my happy ending,” she yelled before leaving the diner. 

Emma jogged down the walkway, unsure of where to go, but knowing she couldn’t remain in there one second longer. She didn’t want to see the looks she’d put on her parents’ faces anymore and she didn’t want to deal with Neal. After an hour of wandering, she found herself down by the icy cold shoreline. She sat down in the freezing sand and folded her arms around her legs. Resting her chin on her knees, she lamented the fool she’d made of herself and the mess she’d made of things. 

“Awfully cold for camping at the beach,” Hook said.

Emma jumped so hard, it hurt her butt when she landed back in the unforgiving sand. “Jesus Christ, you scared me. Are you following me?”

“Sorry, love,” Hook apologized, holding hand and hook in the air as he always did when she went on the offensive. “I didn’t mean to alarm you. And no, I am not following you. I was up on the deck of my ship and saw your golden hair in the moonlight; wanted to make sure you don’t catch your death out here.” He handed her a blanket. 

“Thank you,” she said through chattering teeth, only now realizing just how cold it was. “You probably need to invest in some warmer clothes if you’re planning to stay in Storybrooke for the winter.”

“Is that an invitation, Swan?”

She just rolled her eyes as she held her hand out to him to help her up. 

“Don’t worry your heart, I am plenty hot,” he flirted, extending his hand and pulling her up.

“You are plenty full of yourself is what you are,” she laughed. “I don’t know why I ended up here. I just… I cannot go home. I should probably see if Granny has a room available. Paying her some rent is the least I could do after clearing out her customers.”

Hook scratched behind his ear, his nervous habit that always made Emma chuckle inside, because how did The Captain Hook have a nervous tic? 

“You could stay on the Jolly, if you like. You know, instead of walking back to Granny’s.” 

“Is that an invitation, Hook?” Emma countered.

“Actually, it is,” he said as he bowed deeply, holding his right hand out in the direction of his ship.  

She decided it was probably her best option for the night. She didn’t want to see her parents at the loft, she definitely didn’t want to risk running into Neal at Granny’s, and she was far too proud to ask Regina for a crash pad. So, she followed the direction of Hook’s extended hand and headed to the Jolly. 

“Thank you,” she mumbled as they headed down into the Captain’s Quarters. It was only slightly warmer below deck, and she wondered how cold he got at night. 

“Perhaps a little gratitude is in order,” he smirked, pointing his finger to his lips as he had done several weeks ago.

Emma didn’t even have to think about it this time. She launched herself at him, wrapping her arms around his neck and backing him up against the wall. She kissed him just as passionately as she had back on that Hell Island, but this time, she had no intent of limiting their activities to just a kiss.

“Swan,” he moaned against her mouth.

“Hmmm?” she hummed as she continued to learn his mouth and his tongue which had come out to play. 

She loved the way his hook felt pressed at her back and the way his hand cupped her cheek before sliding into her hair. She took the opportunity to quickly run her hands up through his chest hair before shifting them up under his jacket to divest him of it. 

“Swan, stop,” he whispered between kisses. “Stop, darling.”

Emma immediately pulled back. Like, what? “What’s the problem,” she asked defensively.

“I apologize lass, it was a poorly timed Neverland reference.”

“A… joke?” Emma’s head began spinning again. One million thoughts ran through her head as her brows furrowed and panic hit her eyes. Her mouth turned down as a strangle hold settled over her... rejection. She’d had one melt down and now she was damaged goods in his eyes. A one time thing, she’d said, and he was the one who was going to enforce it. “I have to go,” she muttered, mind already on auto pilot to the lovely land of orphans-aren’t-worthy-of-love. 

Killian quickly blocked her path to the door. Bad move. 

“Get. Out. Of. My. Way,” she seethed. “You don- don’t want me...”  Oh fuck, she panicked, the tears were going to start again. When would this roller coaster come crashing to a halt? Emma Swan, Dumpster Fire, she mused, it had a truer ring than Emma Swan, Savior. 

“Don’t you tell me what I want or do not want,” Hook reprimanded. “I want you, I have wanted you, far more and far longer than you know.” He stepped into her space and lifted her chin with his hook, until she had no choice but to look into his eyes. “Make no mistake about that, love.” A fire burned between them, something palpable, and only by sheer force of will, was Hook denying himself the pleasure she’d been looking to bring him mere moments before. 

Truth. Truth is what she saw in Hook’s eyes. “Then why are you pushing me away,” she asked, lips still quivering with the threat of tears.

“Because I won’t exploit your emotions, that would be the pinnacle of bad form.”

“What?” 

Hook took her hand and led her to sit on his bed. “Emma, you just confessed major hurt and heartache to your parents. You obviously have unresolved issues with Bae, and you’re harboring a sadness that is ruling your emotions. Despite Neverland and everything that happened there, I have never seen you this close to the brink of despair.” 

A tear slipped down as Hook brought his hand up to cup her cheek. “Look at me, Emma.” 

She sniffled, but complied, as she realized he was not going to continue until she looked at him. 

“You are strong, and you will get through this, but a quick romp in the sack is not part of the solution. I cannot in good conscience let you lead us down a path that you will undoubtedly regret. It’s not fair to you and it’s not fair to me.”

“If I don’t get to tell you what you do or don’t want, then you shouldn’t get to tell me what I will or won’t regret,” she huffed.

Hook smiled at the fire that lit his Swan, and continued on, “I did promise Bae that I would back off, I thought it was best for Henry, if it was what you wanted as well.”

“I don’t want that,” Emma interrupted. 

“I know you don’t want that. Tonight made that clear,” he assured her. “But tonight also showed that you have some things to work out. I am here for you, Emma, and no matter what our future holds, I will stand by your side and help you traverse all of it. But where matters of our hearts are concerned, I cannot be your port in this storm if you only plan to pack up and set sail when the tide calms and the tempest parts.”

Tears surged forth once more as she lunged at Hook again, but this time just to throw herself into his embrace. She didn’t even know why she was crying, but she knew that this, him, everything he’d just said, this was what she needed. Someone to stand by her side, someone to accept her for her, someone who knew that she had shitty baggage but was okay with it and wanted to help her lighten her load. “I just want to forget, I want five minutes where I don’t feel like everything is closing around me like a vice.” 

“That’s it lass, everything is going to be okay, I promise,” he murmured as he wrapped his arms around her protectively. “Let it out, crying can be quite cathartic when you let it.” 

Emma cried a little harder as she listened to his soothing voice. She sat up many moments later when she’d cried herself out. Wiping away her tears, she looked at the man next to her. “How did you get so wise,” she asked in a nasally, I’ve-been-crying voice.

“How’s that?”

“About crying being cathartic.”

“Ah,” Hook chuckled as he blushed a bit. “You pick up some things as the centuries pass. I may have learned that sometimes letting out pent up emotion is better than harbouring it until it blows up.” 

“Thank you, Killian,” she whispered, before leaning in and tenderly placing a chaste kiss to his lips.

“You called me Killian.”

The bit of awe in his eyes made Emma giggle. “That is your name, isn’t it?”

“Aye, but you know what I mean, love,” he chuckled with her.

She laughed again until she was caught in a yawn that wracked her whole body. 

“Let me get you something to sleep in.” Hook went to an antique armoire and pulled out one of his shirts and a pair of long johns. “These should keep you warm.” After handing them to her, he placed a kiss on her cheek. “I’ll let you get some rest, no doubt your day has been taxing.” Then he turned to leave. 

Before he could make it to the door, Emma reached out to grab his hook. He turned around to see what she needed.

“Will you stay with me?”

His eyes pleaded with her not to tempt him into breaking his word. His good form. 

“I promise I won’t jump your bones, sailor.” She rolled her eyes playfully, but then she glanced away and folded her arms around herself, a vulnerability encasing her whole form before she spoke again. “I just want you to hold me,” she whispered. 

His chest ached for her, for this tender side of Emma Swan that he’d never been privy to. Why would he ever deny her something as simple as holding her? “Of course, love.” After changing into something passable for sleep attire, he joined Emma in his bed. 

“I know this is going to sound sappy, but today, at Granny’s, when you showed up, I was on the brink of losing my mind,” Emma confessed as she lay snuggled against his side, his right arm wrapped around her, making her feel safe. “But when I saw you, I felt like… like I might be able to get through it, like everything would be okay, if only you were with me. That’s why I asked you to stay.”

“And did it help, having me there?”

“All I know is, even though I didn’t say everything I need to get off my chest, I did get through part of it, and I am glad you were there.” 

“Happy to oblige, darling.” Hook craned his neck forward to place a kiss to the crown of her head. 

Pulling the blankets up to her neck, Emma shivered. “Give me your other arm, you’re warmer than these blankets.” 

“My hook,” he said, holding up the shiny version of his moniker. “I wouldn’t want to accidentally harm you.” 

“Then take it off,” Emma responded as though it were the most obvious answer in the world.

“I don’t think so, love.”

“Why not?” she asked, sitting up to look at him.

Hook took advantage of his freed arm and scrubbed his hand over his face. “It’s not a sight I wish you to see, it’s actually quite revolting.”

“I don’t believe for a second that any part of Killian Jones is revolting,” Emma said, gently pulling his left arm toward her. 

“Swan,” he groaned.

“Killian, you saw me at my most vulnerable today, and you didn’t run for the hills. I won’t either,” she promised softly. “I don’t think you understand that what I like about you is this,” she placed her hand over his heart, “the man you are.” 

Killian placed his hand over hers, where it rested on his chest and brought it to his brace. “Okay then, go ahead.” 

Carefully unfastening the buckles, Emma pulled the entire brace away from his arm. She held his forearm in one hand and ran the fingers of her other hand over the scarred flesh, inspecting the damage. Although Hook was right, it wasn’t a “pretty” sight, it wasn’t nearly as bad as he would have had her believe. “Does it still hurt?”

“Aye, sometimes.”

She delicately massaged in a downward motion, from his forearm to the end of his wrist, and watched his face. He wasn’t making eye contact with her, but rather, watching her ministrations. He looked half panic stricken, like he might bolt, and half enchanted by her touch. She followed the pattern several times until he’d fully relaxed to her touch. “See, was that so bad?”

Hook’s face was a deep shade of red and his entire body had broken out in goosebumps. He didn’t know how to answer her question. He had never willingly let another person see his mutilated arm, let alone touch it. On one hand, it was that bad, he felt laid bare before her and he was still dressed. On the other hand, or hook, as it were, he felt something akin to what she had explained earlier, like he would be okay, because she was there. “I suppose not,” he murmured, all the more enamored by this enchanting woman.

“Good.” Laying back down, she wrapped both his arms around her and snuggled into him. “Much better.” Emma slept better that night than she had since they’d come home from Neverland. 

Tagging some lovelies - please let me know if you’d like to be added or removed!

@laschatzi @qualitycoffeethings @hookedonapirate @wordsmith-storyweaver @kmomof4 @winterbaby89 @hollyethecurious @wyntereyez @hooklineandswan @teamhook @let-it-raines @whimsicallyenchantedrose @spartanguard  @tiganasummertree@apromisednightcap  @xemmaloveskillianx @elizabeethan @cocohook38 @optomisticgirl @darkcolinodonorgasm @jennjenn615 @timeless-love-story @girl-in-a-tiny-box @thesschesthair @galadriel26 @ultraluckycatnd @lifeinahole27 @therooksshiningknight @kday426 @djlbg @superchocovian @itsfabianadocarmo @lfh1226-linda @delightfully-difficult-pirate @thejollyswan @csalltheway @xarandomdreamx @vvbooklady1256 @withheartfulloflove @resident-of-storybrooke @mcakers @gingerchangeling @searchingwardrobes @snowbellewells

[space-nerd2005]

Maybe She’s Got a Friend-Chapter 2

After a very long wait, ITS HERE!!! This chapter is longer than the first one to hopefully make up for how long it took to come out.

Here is a link to the playlist I made to go along with it

This is the chapter Reader meet Bucky. YAY!!!

2176 words

“I'm terrified out of my mind! Although Steve did just fine, that doesn't mean I will be as fortunate. I have to go. If I don’t make it, tell Peggy I’m sorry. 08.19.41” I quickly shoved my pen in my pocket and shut my journal. Steve opened the door for me and I exited the car. I walked alongside Steve down a long corridor leading to large double doors. My heart was beating a million miles a minute. I was extremely anxious about the life-changing procedure. I had always been an anxious person, being in the SSR only made that worse. Steve spoke my name softly and I looked up to him and hummed in response.

 “I can feel the anxiety radiating off of you, we can sit for a minute if that's what you need,” I smiled at Steve and nodded. Since I met him, he has had striking charisma. Even before the serum, he always knew when he needed to calm someone down. He led me to a bench nearby and sat next to me. "What if it fails, or worse, what if I'm still viewed in the same way once it's over?" I looked up at Steve. He had a sympathetic look on his face. My knee was bouncing up and down and I was playing with the rings on my fingers. Steve placed his hand on my knee, stopping it from bouncing, and grabbed my hand, holding it softly in his. “I know you are worried, but everything will work out okay," he said, holding eye contact with me.

 “I just want to serve alongside those who have put their lives on the line for our country, not be a poster girl.” Steve smiled and that confused me. He spoke up after a moment of demented silence. 

“You are one of the strongest women I know, this serum won't change much. You must force the change; believe me, I know what it's like to be pushed aside for being something you did not choose to be.” I took a deep breath and resolved to bury my emotions. Steve rose to his feet, and I soon followed. “Let's do this!” I smiled, and Steve returned my smile. Together, we marched into the lab. All eyes soon landed on Steve and I blushed, all of my nervous energy rushing back to me. Steve walked me down the stairs to Dr. Erskine. “Please take your uniform off, and ignore the judging stares. They are only wishing they were you.” The doctor whispered into my ear. I started to strip down when Howard Stark came up to me. “You are one lucky gal.” I faked a smile and continued working on taking my uniform off. “Just make sure you take out all of your hairpins; they could be bad for the procedure,” Stark said softly, and I nodded. I made sure to double-check I took all of my bobby pins. I took a deep breath before sitting down in the Vita-Ray Chamber. I quickly scanned the room for Peggy. My eyes danced on Steve for a second longer before returning to look for Peggy. I had no luck. She must have not made it. A deep sad feeling struck my heart. There wasn’t much of an audience this time and you could tell that Colonel Phillips was not happy with Erskine’s choice in subjects. I could hear them arguing when Dr. Erskine came to brief me on the procedure.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“I told you I wanted an army, and a woman, THIS woman can’t fight my battles for me!” Colonel Phillips could be heard down the hall from Dr. Erskine’s office. I was sitting outside because I was called for a briefing for tomorrow. “I assure you, Colonel, that she will be a wonderful asset to your team. I would like to see how the female anatomy reacts to the serum.” Dr. Erskine replied calmly. “If you don’t think for a minute that the government will defund our department.” The door to the doctor’s office flew open and the Colonel stormed off. I could have sworn I saw a shocked look on his face like he wasn’t expecting me to be there, but he quickly covered it up with his angry façade. After the Colonel had been long gone, Dr. Erskine invited me in. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

My daze was broken by a nurse suddenly sticking a needle in my arm. I smiled at her as she walked away. Then other nurses began to prep the chamber by adding the remaining six vials of the serum. The doctor then motioned me to lay down and two more nurses strapped me to the bed and brought two arms down to my chest. Steve gave my hand one last squeeze before being escorted up into the box above us. The doctor gave me a pleading look. I nodded and he smiled and turned to a nurse, "Now." Dr. Erskine backed away and my vision went blurry for the first seconds I felt numb. I wasn’t even sure it was working. Then the pain hit me like a train. It felt like lava was running through my veins. It was so quick and before I knew it, it flipped, like a switch. Suddenly, it was cold, I was freezing. My eyes snapped open and I let out a low-pitched scream. Then everything went dark. I felt like I couldn’t breathe. The next thing I see are sparks. There are sparks everywhere. Then a jolt of electricity runs in my veins and the last thing I remember hearing was a loud bang, followed by multiple smaller bangs. My memory went quiet. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The next thing I remember is waking up in a bright room. My eyes were hazy and I couldn’t focus on anything in the room. I see a hunched-over object in the chair next to my bed. My eyes focused a little bit and I realized it was Steve. I reached my hand out and grabbed Steve’s arm. He jolted up and I got a glimpse of his face. He looked extremely tired. I frowned at him, “Steve, you look like you’ve been through hell and back.” My raspy voice seemed to snap him awake because he stood up. “Oh my,” he took a pause and looked guilty. “You’re probably wondering what happened.” I tried to think back to what happened that fateful day. Steve spoke up and I lost my train of thought. “Something happened in the chamber, causing you to pass out. Then a HYDRA agent’s bomb blew up, he shot the doctor and I chased him down. He ended up killing himself with a cyanide capsule.” I was trying to process what Steve had just told me when Peggy stormed in and smiled at me.

 “You’re quite the looker," she chuckled, and I rolled my eyes. I’m sure my appearance was super attractive. “Steve, I think James needs you. I’ll watch her while you are gone.” She smiled and we both watched as he left. She looked at me and took Steve’s spot on the chair next to the bed. “What’s wrong with Steve?” I asked. Peggy frowned and looked at me, saying, "I suppose you did miss it all. Well, this whole week has been super hard for all of us, but especially Steve. He blamed himself for everything that happened on Tuesday. Then he found out that his best friend, James, or as most call him, ‘Bucky’ was declared MIA. Steve went to the HYDRA base and reclaimed those soldiers.” It had been quite the week. “Oh.” was all I could muster. Peggy smiled and said, "Your doctor said you could probably leave tomorrow, depending on how you feel. "Nothing too serious." She said this as she smiled at me again. 

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In the next week, I was released from the hospital and back in action, well sorta… I am currently in a lab having experiments tested on me like I'm a lab rat. Currently, they are testing my strength. I was sparring with an extremely buff man and I was starting to run low on stamina. I don’t think that the serum affected me the same as it did Steve because I don’t have more muscle content and my stamina feels about the same. Lost in thought I didn’t realize that the man was charging at me. I panicked and put my hands out and braced my feet closing my eyes. I felt a rush wind before a loud thud. I opened my eyes and found that the man who was coming full force at me, seizing on the ground with gold electricity buzzing along with his figure. I looked at my hands and they were shooting small streams of electricity between my fingers. A few doctors ran in and tended to the man while another walked up to me. He was frightened by me because he stood a couple of feet away from me “How did you do that?” he asked while holding his clipboard up to his face ready to take notes. “I-I-I’m not sure, I imagined beating him in a fight and I opened my eyes and he was on the ground.” He looked at me and frowned. “If you could learn how to control that, you alone could be the downfall of the Axis Powers.” I smiled, ‘yes yes I could’ I said to myself.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

After that encounter I started to practice using my newfound electrokinesis, I wasn’t very good at it but I could muster up big charges that took a lot of damage but also took a lot of energy. I had finally been recruited for an actual military mission. It was to get some HYDRA intel. Steve and I had talked previously about me leaving and he said that if I did it successfully, he would let me join his group The Howling Commandos. I was excited because that meant I could go on missions, let alone important missions, with Steve. I knew I couldn't fail this mission. After being beaten the shit out of, I came home to an impatient Peggy. I  explained that the mission was successful and she exclaimed with “Good, I could go for a nice meal and I know you could too. Let's get you changed and we will go out.” She smiled and I swear her smiles are contagious because I caught myself smiling brightly back at her.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

After showering, fixing my hair, and slipping into a blue Grable tea dress Peggy and I decided to head out. As we were catching up she pulled in at a bar and I let out a sigh, “I thought we were going to dinner.” Peggy grabbed her clutch and looked at me “I just need to tell Steve about Howard’s equipment, care to join?” I looked at her as she got out of the car and I decided why not, I haven’t seen Steve in a week, I kinda missed him. “I will be right there,” I told her as she entered the bar. Since Peggy was rushing me I didn’t even have time to put my shoes on. So I hopped out of the car barefooted and rushed into the bar. Immediately when I entered there was some singing and I was hit with a strong smell of alcohol. I was fumbling with my heels as I was getting closer to Peggy’s voice. “0800 Captain.” Peggy stopped right in front of me. After exiting the small room she was just in. Smiling a toothy grin I quipped “Awe you’re blushing.” A swift smack to the arm followed my comment and I rubbed it “Ouch.” I smiled again “I’ll be right out, I would like to say Hi to Steve.” I said to which Peggy replied, “I’ll be waiting in the car, don’t be too long, we have a reservation.” As I messed with my second heel getting closer to the room I could hear Steve’s voice clearly “Don’t take it so hard. Maybe she’s got a friend.”

I finally got my second heel on and I stumbled into the room, my eyes landing on Steve. “Hey, I’ve missed you!” I smiled at him. “Hey! Have you met Bucky?” I looked over to the man he was referring to and my mind went blank. Even though I haven't drunk anything I felt intoxicated in his presence. A blush crept up on my face and I smiled goofily at him. “I don’t think we have.” I smiled and Steve told him my name. Bucky said it slowly and I was swooning. “Hi,” I said, trying to act confident. Then I remembered Steve’s promise about joining the Howling Commandos. “Consider me your partner” I winked at him and Steve looked shocked as did Bucky. “You completed the mission successfully?!” “ Without a hitch”. Then my conversation was cut short by a loud honking noise that could only be Peggy. “I’ve gotta go, I'll see you tomorrow morning Steve!” I said while walking out and into the chilly evening air.

[merrickwccd]

& if you find me, will you know me?

                                            will you take me ? or will you fall?

closed / self para involving merrick, @thehollyxwood, @incendiarious & the uncreated but still existing in fairvale ethan jenkins, soon to be brought in  when / shortly after logan finds merrick  what / as if the world hasn’t already crashed down enough, not just one ex but two has shown up while holly’s sick.  a/n / a lot of exposition, some background on these fucking four idiots & their time apart, and a lot emo bitch hours 

she can barely hold herself together. 

she had notebooks full of trauma and rages, tears and exhaustions. insecurities and confidences, things she’d never say aloud but needed to let out. for so long now, she had locked up her high school years tight, put them away in the recesses of her mind and refused to give them more than the arbitrary thought. nostalgia was a bitch - especially in times like this. it was a liar, a fool, made everything seem like it was good, even the bad. 

a week ago, she could have easily told you that nothing would make her fall to her knees in desperation, that there was no way she would ever let logan norris wrap his arms around her. that seeing ethan jenkins surely wouldn’t make her heart jump in her chest, that her first two loves were merely that, figments of the past that had colored her relationships going forward. 

first, there had been dallas. a near replica of logan - athletic and cocky, earnest and cute when they were alone but not one to hide who he was. they had met at intramural softball, each determined to out-pitch the other. taller than the others, she had spent afternoons walking around new york city arguing abotu which team was better - the yankees or the braves - bringing him to their summer home in maine to fish and home to meet her mother in georgia. her father had liked him enough, though she knew he had a soft spot for her former boys. 

she never brought him around ethan, and logan had already disappeared from her life by then. social media ‘likes’ on posts, she’d seen him in ohio looking happy - she was determined to be the same in new york. 

but dallas had his own best friend, and his own feelings for her, and the situation had felt so painstakingly familiar - she saw the way he looked at parker, the same way logan had once looked at holly, that she pulled herself free. two years to late, perhaps, but she’d never been good at avoiding collateral damage. 

in her weakness, she’d written an email that never got sent. an i miss you, i’m sorry, can we please start over? but her sister and her were finally on good terms, she was on her last year at nyu, and for all she knew, logan was finding love of his own in ohio. 

so it sat in her drafts until she deleted it six months later, unsent. 

she channeled her emotions into a sea of stories, submitting them to publishers around the country. young adult style romances, the kind that filled hero wn bedroom back home, the kind that made the reader root for the two to get together, despite the odds. despite the casualties. 

too many of her leading men had sandy hair or striking eyes, while the other half had curls that were untamed and toothy smiles. 

asher worked with her in boston - a quiet, unassuming tech support guy who she bonded with over a love of sea monsters and cryptids. the two traveled around massachusetts, visiting salem and other haunted homes and towns, laughing and scaring one another with late nights curled up on her couch. a few almost brushes, a kiss here and there, but nothing ever spoken. 

she had always had a weakness for boys who were too smug for their own good, or too afraid of the complications to admit their feelings. if there was no jump to hurdle, what was the point? 

but asher had left before the first rumors began circling, on his way to california and a new life, and merrick had been left alone once again. wondering what it was she did wrong, another email - this time to a different address, now defunct she was sure because ethan had never been great at technology when they were constantly buzzing and sending things to one another. 

and the world had ended. and merrick had faced the truth : she loved love, maybe too much, stifling and clinging to it so tight that it continued to wreck her. there had only been one person she needed to hold onto now anyways, and together they packed the sensible sedan their parents had gifted them upon merricks’ arrival in boston, claiming the sisters needed a way to get around the city but really pleased just to see them together once again. they found colette, they found a home, and merrick pushed away reminders of home. 

even while wearing lulu’s cheer shorts as she practiced her knife throwing in the backyard. even while sleeping in logan’s hoodie, now smelling more of herself than her first boyfriend. even wiping the sweat off her brow with ethan’s old football tee, his number and name on her back. she whispered to colette or holly some nights, wondering if they could find them, but never with any real hope. 

if they were out there, what were the chances? 

and then the world ended again, in the form of holly falling ill as if she didn’t have someone to survive for. and merrick knew, logistically, that holly would fight to get free - she would. but in the meantime, she let out all the anguish and misery, all the horrors and tears she’d never shed for so many reasons, breaking down until he returned to her. 

but he wasn’t alone. 

she wouldn’t have believed it if she hadn’t seen it - curls matted down with sweat, shaking hands as he curled up on the steps of the library, her voice breaking out in a low cry - ethan ! that led her to scooping him in her arms. 

if logan had kept her intact, she had done so for ethan. where she needed logan, ethan needed her. 

sometimes the comparing and contrasting hurt too much to consider. 

he was a shell of a person - hollow eyes and barely able to register her more than a whisper of her name - “merrick?” but she didn’t bother giving him a moment to breath before she pulled him into a tight hug, just as logan had her. 

maybe this was how it was supposed to be, now. 

she had made herself a promise, lost in a journal sitting in her old bedroom back in riverside. if the world had ever given her a chance again, she’d fix it. make it right. 

holly could have logan. merrick would pretend she had no feelings, that their love had died away with time, that logan was merely an old friend. a brother. holly deserved him more, holly had had him first. merrick had been selfish, merrick had taken him, merrick would live the rest of her life filling guilt at the hurt on her sister’s face when she was with him, would bury her feelings until they disappeared. 

they would have to eventually, right? 

and ethan - he deserved more, deserved better. he deserved someone much more able to give him their whole heart. but he’d accepted when she’d given him then, and if he accepted it now, she would devote herself entirely. 

no one would ever need to be any wiser. 

“mer, she’s gone,” was ethan’s mumble into her hair, and her heart seized at the implications - there was only one ‘she’ between them that she’d be wondered about, her arms wrapping tighter around him. she didn’t want to know - didn’t want him to have to say - just kissed his cheeks, his forehead, his lips, grateful he was there, he was alive. 

“you’re okay,” she whispered, not caring what happened for the moment, what he’d been through. “you’re here now, i’ve got you.” words she’d echoed to him so long ago, and much like then he collapsed against her, weight heavy as she ran her fingers up an down his back. 

yes, this would be how it was. holly would be better, and she and logan - 

merrick had ethan. and ethan had merrick. and merrick would be grateful enough for what she did have and not once ask for more. not this time. 

not anymore. 

[thunderbird-one-ai]

Compromised Chapter 3

Finally another chapter done after MONTHS of just starring at it. I’m hoping that Christmas will mean I can type a little more since I’ll be taking a break from university.  This chapter ends on another cliff hanger and I’m not sorry :P I’d like to say now. Kayo is not my wrong point POV wise so I apologise in advance if I’ve portrayed her so poorly.

Chapter 1 - Here

Part 1: Kayo

Kayo made no comment when John said those heart-stopping words to the team. ‘Thunderbird One is missing’. She shook her head, that couldn’t be true, this was Scott just cooling off. She’s known him for so long, getting away from his brothers for some time alone was rare for Scott, and with the argument, she overheard him have with Jeff meant he was probably just cooling off. She forced herself to believe that because the other alternative would be so much worse. But she was a practical woman. She knew that if Scott was distracted even for a second, he would have been jumped on. She thought of many scenarios in her head. Scott wasn’t a pushover; he could handle himself very well in a one on one fight. She hardly needed to teach him many moves since he had got the basics in the military long before they started training together. So the likely hood of Scott being overpowered by one prisoner was unlikely. John had also mentioned that three inmates were not accounted for still. Three verses one isn’t an easy challenge, but Scott’s training meant he might have been able to handle them. This still didn’t answer how Thunderbird One disappeared off Johns scans and hers for that matter.

“Thunderbird Shadow to Thunderbird Two,” Kayo said. “Thunderbird Two to Thunderbird Shadow, did you find anything?” Virgil replied. Kayo heard the worried tone in Virgil’s voice. She would no doubt hear it in every brother's voice, even Johns in this situation. He was remaining calm but Kayo wondered how long that calm deminer would last for. Virgil may not be as hot-headed as Scott, but his passion to protect his family burns just as brightly as Scott’s. She looked outside her cockpit noticing a small GDF post in the middle of nowhere. Probably just to make sure no stragglers got away. It would definitely be a place that Scott would land near. “Nothing yet, I’ve flown over the entire area with no sign of Scott or Thunderbird One. I see a small GDF post out here so I’m going to ask them some questions,” Kayo said through her comms. “FAB, keep up informed. I’ve gotta go tell dad,” Virgil said before Kayo heard him cut communications. That wasn’t going to be easy. Jeff had only been back six months and now one of his sons was already missing on a mission. A mission that coincidently included the possible break out of kayo’s uncle. The mention of The Hood made Kayo’s blood boil, another thought crossed her mind that John still hadn’t told them whether one of the inmates missing was The Hood or not. If this was true, she needed to be even more on guard. Kayo got Thunderbird Shadow to land nearby the GDF truck and jumped down on the ground below her. She walked up to the Guards not trusting a single one of them. “What does International Rescue want now? We’ve already said to the other one that we have this place secure,” One of the guards promptly said, causing Kayo to become concerned. “The other one?” Kayo replied. “Yeah, the tall one with the fast jet. Just waltz right up here with three guys. One passed out mind you. Said he was a high priority prisoner and took that one back to the prison whilst we hold the others for the appropriate transport to arrive,” Kayo took in every piece of information. Well, that was wrong, Thunderbird One had not returned to the prison otherwise she would have seen the silver bird fly straight past her. She kept her poker face shown, knowing if the GDF found out about a missing Thunderbird, they’d never hear the end of it. She walked back to Thunderbird Shadow, arm moving up to start a comm link with the others before something caught her eye. Kayo found herself running back and sliding under her jet, gliding her hands over charred patches of Earth. Thunderbird One was here. The distinct pattern in the ground matched Thunderbird One’s VTOL engines. Scott was right here along with his bird. The GDF said that he just left with one member but the other two were still here. Kayo found herself running again back to the GDF truck, ignoring the protests from the members, Kayo got in the back, looking to the two prisoners. Neither of them was The Hood and that only made her more concerned. “What did he promise you? Freedom?” Kayo said, looking at both of them, waiting for a reaction. She got one. “Funny, that’s what the other one said,” The smaller male replied, smiling. Kayo wished right there and then she could live up to her name and punch this guy into next week, but her mind was racing. They knew who she was talking about. She jumped out of the van and found herself once again running back to Thunderbird Shadow, ignoring the shouts from the GDF members behind her. She had to get to the others, her brother was in serious trouble. “Thunderbird Two, The Hood has Scott,”

Part 2: Jeff Jeff tapped his foot against the varnished floor impatiently. This wasn’t the first mission he’d been leading where Scott had been less than helpful in cooperating with. He was very much surprised at that his eldest son would answer back as much as he did. That never happened when International Rescue first started out, heck even when they were both military personnel, Scott would always follow what Jeff said. But that was over eight years ago. Eight years ago Scott never would have thought his own father would be lost in space. Jeff couldn’t begin to imagine what his eldest had gone through. Losing their mother was a hard blow to the family, then Jeff himself was blown into space. His eldest had to take on everything. As much as he saw the future in his boys he never thought International rescue would become like this. They all exceeded what Jeff thought possible but should have he expected any less. “I never thought that after all this, I would see my boy look so lost in his own chair,” Jeff jumped in his own seat and looked up to see a familiar face. “Mum, you got back here early. I thought you were with Lady Penelope all day,” “I was but I was informed that not all was well here on the island,” Sally said smiling softly, sitting down on the sofa obviously waiting for Jeff to finally speak up. Jeff gave a small smile back, of course, Lady Penelope would say something, no doubt she had Parker overhearing the entire conversation between Scott and himself. He also shouldn’t have been surprised that his mother would want to fly back after hearing that the family was in slight disarray. So far he had re-bonded with almost all his sons, Scott was the exception which Jeff was surprised about. They had argued a lot recently, not even his other sons knew about those arguments he doubted his mother did either. “I’ve become closer with all of them mum…all of them except Scott. I still feel like I’m millions of miles away in space when it comes to approaching him. I couldn’t be more proud of him for his achievements, for what he’s done in the years I was gone,” Jeff finally said, breaking the silence between them. “He took on everything Jeffery, almost got too much for him,” she let out a small huffed breath. “But he’s your eldest son, you taught him everything he needed to know about your company and International Rescue.” “But that doesn’t explain…this,” “For years I saw that boy struggle with many things. The most prominent one was that he felt he could have done better. Scott worked himself to exhaustion. We’re all grateful Virgil became the main paramedic to deal with your eldest because he took on so much. Took the pain, the sadness, the guilt from everyone else and hoarded it himself. Reminds me of a certain Tracy I knew when they were younger,” Jeff looked back over to his mother, who had a kind, warm smile waiting for him. Of course, Scott would take everything on his shoulders, even at his young age. But the guilt was something that took Jeff a little off guard. He felt like he should have the guilt. The guilt of leaving his family. The guilt of leaving his eldest son with five younger siblings. The guilt of never telling him Kayo’s origins. There was so much more Jeff should have told or shown to not only Scott but the rest of his sons. He was so overwhelmed by his own guilt he didn’t even consider Scott had his own. He remembered that dreaded day so clearly, it haunted his mind constantly even when asleep. The last day he spent on the planet before disappearing for eight years. He remembers telling his sons he’d be home for dinner. He remembered Scott following him to the hanger, stating his worry about the mission. Jeff remembers considering letting Scott join him as the backup pilot in case the place was too much to handle for Jeff alone. But that was out of the question. Jeff vowed to not let the Hood get close to his family, especially Scott not after what happened. Jeff sighed quickly. He’d already broken that vow. The Hood had done so much damage to the family, almost ripping it apart. But not anymore, Jeff was certain on that. He would need to talk with Scott properly after this mission was over and safely back home. Maybe even talk about some old demons they both shared. “Jeffery, Virgil’s trying to contact you,” Jeff looked over to the wall that mounted his sons' portraits, Virgil’s lit up, sending a projection of him onto the table. Jeff noticed straight away something was wrong. “Virgil? What’s happened?”

Part 3: Scott To say Scott hated The Hood was an understatement. That man, that monster, made Scott's blood boil with rage. But The Hood was also one of the very few people who could instil a rare horrible emotion as well, fear. The fear that The Hood could take everything away from him in a single second. He knew this fear, he’s already experienced it once before a little over ten years ago. Memories of betrayal and threats surfaced suddenly, catching Scott off guard, melting his poker face stance away. “Remembering old times Scott? I’m rather offended you forgot them. They were, of course, the most defining moments of your life,” The Hood looked down to him grinning. “Young and ambitious wanting to be better than your father,” No, Scott didn’t want to remember those times, those memories were locked away for a reason. He had to focus on the now not then. Focus on making sure The Hood never got to the jet he was asking about. Scott knew what The Hood wanted now. “The jet’s destroyed Hood. It’s gone,” Scott said quickly, not latching onto the words he had said previously. The Hood just burst into a sarcastic laugh. “Oh? You’re being serious? Don’t take me for a fool Scott. I know she’s still in one piece. After all, you wouldn’t have destroyed your precious first jet. She was too good to be destroyed. The perfect machine that couldn’t be matched in either Earth’s atmosphere or space. The speed and weaponry that couldn’t be countered. I would build it again myself if the parts weren’t so rare,” The Hood continued to smile. “You didn’t build it you ruined it!” Scott shouted before swallowing thickly, realising he’d just been baited, again. “Come now, Scott. Even you admitted to it being a beautiful machine, you were in your element whilst flying it. How you were so focused on proving your father wrong, proving him you were better. I wanted to prove that too, prove to the world that Scott Tracy could become so much more than Jeff Tracy,” “You manipulated me,” “I was trying to show you your true potential Scott and you threw it all away when you betrayed me,” “You betrayed us! My father trusted you. Worked with you and you…you tried to kill him,” The hood smacked his hands down on to the metal table, leaning over Scott. Scott looked up to him about to continue his sentence before noticing The Hoods expression. He tensed; Scott knew that look. It was a look he hadn’t seen in ten years. It was the look The Hood gave him all those years ago when he declared Scott had betrayed him and vowed that Scott would pay. There was that emotion again, fear. It seeped through his body relentlessly. He wouldn’t be overwhelmed again; he was stronger this time. “If you won’t tell me then I suppose I’ll have to find another Tracy to tell me the location,” “They don’t know anything about it!” Scott saw The Hoods expression change from angry to delight as he saw the realisation dawn on the criminals face. “You never told them, did you?” The Hood laughed. “You never told your brothers you worked with me,”

[dessarious]

Broken Harmony Pt10

Master List 1   Master List 2    Prologue   Beginning   Previous   Next

Damian didn’t even know how to react to that number when her song was so calm about it so he had to look at everyone else’s reaction first. Tom just wilted. It would have been amusing under other circumstances, but now he just looked so defeated. He felt that he failed his child and it was obvious. Sabine was completely blank. He wasn’t sure if she was just processing or about to explode. He’d be willing to bet that if an Akuma flew in at that moment she would glare it into submission. Damian wondered if Hawkmoth could sense when someone’s negative emotions were aimed at him so he could avoid them. The longer her mother stayed silent the more panicked Marinette became.

“But like I said, eighteen of them were the week after Master Fu died so that should really only count as one. Of course Ladybug might disagree since she basically spent all week following me around to cleanse the Akumas but on the plus side no one else got Akumatized that week so while it wasn’t great for me at least Paris didn’t suffer right?” Damian was impressed. He’d never heard anyone talk that fast and still be understandable. He was however a little concerned that she didn’t seem to be stopping to breathe. “That’s actually an interesting idea. We could have one person who’s negative emotions are really strong and Lady bug could just shadow them rather than wonder when and where an Akuma will strike. Obviously it would be different people every week or so because no one should feel like that for long. Course Hawkmoth would probably figure out what was going on and just send them to less obvious targets.”

“Marinette.” Her mouth snapped shut but she began to fidget instead. At least she seemed to be breathing again. “When did this start?” Sabine’s voice was too calm and Damian felt goosebumps rising on his arms. Marinette seemed to be hovering inches from a panic attack and he tried to make his song more soothing. She shot him a grateful look before answering her mother.

“When Lila came back. She threatened to take all my friends and I got really upset. That whole day was just really bad to be honest.”

“Wait, wasn’t that over a year ago?” Marinette frowned in thought at Tom’s question.

“Closer to a year and a half I think.”

Sabine still had no expression. Damian thought she could make a killing as an interrogator. Hell he was a trained assassin and was ready to spill his secrets to avoid whatever she was planning in her head. 

“So all this has been going on for a year and a half? The Akumas and the bullying?” Her voice was soft, almost calming unless you looked at her eyes. They were like fire and ice fused together to create one of the most terrifying things he’d ever seen. His body moved without conscious thought and he found himself between the woman and Marinette. Rationally he knew her rage wasn’t aimed at her daughter, however his need to protect his soulmate ran far deeper than logic could penetrate.

“Well, like I said, nothing like this has ever happened before. It’s always been mostly words.” She was trying to calm her mother but her words were having the opposite effect. On him too if he was being honest. She’d been suffering alone. He hadn’t even known about it until six months ago and he was in her head. There was no way her parents could have known.

“What’s done is done.” Bruce’s voice seemed to break the standoff and everyone’s eyes turned to him. Damian was impressed that his father barely flinched under Sabine’s stare. “No one can undo the past but we can create protections so nothing like this happens in the future. Pressing charges against everyone in the video is a good start.” Marinette looked like she wanted to argue but Tom jumped in before she could.

“He’s right sweetie. At the very least is will make them think about their actions and realize the damage they’ve done.” Damian shared a skeptical look with his father but he felt Marinette taking to the idea. Of course, his ridiculously kind soulmate with no self preservation instincts would be swayed by such an argument. He mentally rolled his eyes but jumped when he got a sharp jab in his ribs. 

Looking back at Marinette she looked exactly like the sweet angel he called her but her song was tinged with annoyance at him and amusement at his reaction to her poke. When had she gotten so close to him? He should have heard her move. She didn’t miss the appraising look he shot her way and he could tell because her song began to radiate innocence. Seriously how did she do that? Even now that he could hear his own he couldn't modify it anywhere close to her precision. 

“Fine, for now. But if I ever meet Hawkmoth face to face that man will regret the day he was conceived.” Sabine took a few deep breaths before continuing. “As for Lila Rossi, if that girl comes anywhere near me she won’t have time to regret anything.” Tom and Bruce shared a look and Tom just shrugged as if to say that was better than he expected.

Sabine finally took in the sight of her daughter not quite cowering behind her soulmate and her expression finally softened. She opened her arms and that was all it to for Marinette to run past Damian and fall into her mother’s embrace.

“From now on, I hope you’ll tell us what’s going on. Last I checked we were your parents, not the other way around.” Marinette chuckled at her dry tone.

“I’m really sorry Maman. I never thought things would turn out like this. I just wanted you both to be safe. I’ll try to do better.” Sabine seemed to take comfort in the answer as she gently rocked her daughter in her arms. Damian couldn’t help but wonder what she was actually apologizing for. She never answered her mother’s plea either. Was she going to start actually relying on them, or was she just going to get better at hiding it?

Damian supposed it didn’t matter either way. As long as he was here she’d never face anything alone again.

Master List 1   Master List 2    Prologue   Beginning   Previous   Next

Tag list for Broken Harmony

Thanks for all the positive responses! Here’s the tag list I’ve go so far. If I missed anyone let me know.

@crazylittlemunchkin @iggy-of-fans @captainmac6 @shizukiryuu @origami-dreams @yamadochie @drama-queen-supreme @miraculousbelladonna @mjisntme @zebrabaker @driftingmoonlitpetals @slytherinhquinn @politelyvicious @mystery-5-5 @constancetruggle @synnesstra @im-here-for-the-content @slytherinsheashire  @myriad-of-passionate-pettiness @cyborgcandy @rhub4rb @satans-favorite-homo @beautym3 @ayuchan07 @zalladane @moonlitarchangels @mooshoon @mindfulmagics @saphiraazure2708 @chrismarium @worlds-tiniest-spook-pastry @tog84 @littleredrobinhoodlum @cupcakeandkisses @kiara-rose-blackthorn @moonlitarchangels @graduatedmelon @lunar-wolf-warrior @tbehartoo @zoerayne2426 @ellerahs @heaven428 @my-name-is-michell @unabashedlyswimmingtimemachine @myownworldstayout @alexzandria-747 @k-rena-k @vivilakitty @redscarlet95 @un1cornf1ghter @bookreader20003 @nataladriana9 @resignedcatservant @blue-peach14 @royalchaoticfangirl @melicmusicmagic @dani-ari @captain-rice @magic-miraculous @valeks-princess

[obeyme-nerds]

Bad Day and Reveal

Also known as Satan’s bad mental day gets worse by being caught with his boyfriend. Also, this is really long, sorry.

He pushed his bangs back, looking across the room. As always, Barbatos looked amazing, standing next to Diavolo. If only he could look as great as that when it came to it. Barbatos, the great butler and his secret boyfriend, the perfect one with everything he does, even his demon form was perfect. His demon outfit were all parts of past-me-downs from his brothers that he tried to make look good. How does he do it? Because he is his own person, Satan. The voice came back, Satan sighed at it. Even though he knew it wasn’t true it still messed him up.

“-you think Satan?” Satan looked up at Lucifer, who seemed to be waiting for an answer.

“Sorry, I was spacing out, what was the question again?” Lucifer looked annoyed but repeated the question.

~~~~~~~~~

You know they won’t care if you died, ‘Satan’. He sighed at the comment. Satan was sitting down on his bed, trying to read but it kept mocking him. You don’t exist.

“I know.” Why keep going then? Go ahead, off yourself! No one cares about you. Satan flinched at the statement. He knew it wasn’t that hard. He sighed, putting the book down and walking over to his desk. Suddenly, his DDD rang out from his pocket.

Timey Watson❤️: Hey Satan, you wanna hang out with me? I was able to get off for the rest of the night.

Satan smiled before sending a reply.

Sameul MorningStar: Yeah, where do you wanna go?

Timey Watson❤️: You know the bakery near the library?

Sameul MorningStar: Yeah

Timey Watson❤️: Let’s go there

Sameul MorningStar: See you there then

He grabbed his sweater, putting an arm through and walking out of the house. As always, no one noticed him leaving. No one asked about it. Why would they? They don’t care about you. Satan shook his head as he walked over to the bakery. He saw Barbatos standing near, in an outfit that made him look like a normal demon. Black jeans with ankle black and deep green boots, a shirt from when they went to a concert together and a deep green jacket. Satan smiled, walking over. He prayed it didn’t look like he was breaking down on the inside. Barbatos glanced up, smiling faintly.

“Ah, Sam, nice to see you.”

“Nice to see you too Watson.” They laughed as they went inside, getting their table. They chatted about the week for a bit before getting their drinks: Earl Grey for Satan and Butterscotch Latte for Barbatos.

“Well, darling, I was worried about you.” Satan raised a brow, drinking his tea.

“What do you mean? I’m fine.”

“You’re doing it again, that facade you do when you don’t want people knowing what’s going on. What’s wrong?” Satan cursed Barbatos’ talent of seeing through him. He sighed, running his fingers through his hair.

“The...I guess...I don’t know anymore to be honest. Things are just getting to me nowadays. Afterall, you and my family and Diavolo, you are all perfect then there’s me. I’m not even real, I’m just-”

“A genius? One of the strongest demons in all of Devildom? One of the smartest people known to man? Someone who, through it all, stayed true to themselves even when everyone just saw his sin? If you were going to say something else I hope it was something like that. I can see that being created from just wrath can be a pain to deal with but, it doesn’t define you. And last I checked,” Barbatos reached across to squeeze Satan’s arm, “you are quite real. And quite perfect.” Satan laughed, wiping his eyes in hopes of stopping the waterfall. Damn him for being so emotional.

“You’re lying.”

“Sam, why would I be lying? I have nothing to earn from it and for Pete’s sake, you need to see it more often, see how amazing you are.” Barbatos explained, smiling fondly at Satan’s blush.

“If only I believed it…” Satan mumbled, taking Barbatos’ hand and squeezing it. Barbatos shook his head.

“Honestly, if that was the only way then I would’ve told your brothers. I know it won’t leave but, I hope one day you truly see that.” Satan smiled unevenly, laughing.

“Well, we’ll see if it will ever happen. Though, I must ask, you never like coming to somewhere public. Why did you decide to do that?”

“Because I know how much you love this place.” He replied. Their waiter came with their drinks and they thanked him. Barbatos held Satan’s hand, rubbing the top as Satan rambled on about the newest book he was reading. He knew deep inside that Satan may have forgotten about it now but, that damned voice in his head will never truly leave.

“I swear that he’s not getting the importance of the Shadow Book and...you’re not listening are you?” Satan pouted, drinking his tea.

“Of course I’m listening darling, can I not admire my lover while he’s rambling about his newest book addiction?” Satan went red, putting his cup and covered his face. Barbatos smiled, lifting his other hand up to pull the hand covering his lover’s face.

“No, you can not admire my childish actions while I’m rambling on a book series.” Barbatos chuckled. They stared at each other for a moment before hearing a click noise. They turned their heads to see a shocked Levi with his DDD out, flash on. Oh fuck me with a chainsaw.

“Leviathan, do not.”

“Are you two dating?”

“That is not your business, uncle.” Satan answered, glaring at Levi.

“Well, it’s too late.”

“What do you mean?” Barbatos asked. Levi showed a group message of all the brothers were the photo was shown and being talked about. Satan dropped down in his chair, groaning.

“This is about to be fun.”

“Yup.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Lord Diavolo, let me talk to him one-on-one.” Lucifer asked, glaring at Barbatos who simply shrugged. He expected this to happen after Levi had revealed that it was outed. Diavolo shook his head, sighing.

“Lucifer, what happens between Satan and Barbatos is not something that should be such a big deal.” Diavolo argued, standing in between Lucifer and Barbatos, hoping to stop any damage with his childhood friend. Satan pouted as he was held back by his uncles, all asking questions that he refused to answer.

“It’s not something that involves you anyway.”

“As your brother-”

“As your son/brother, you should respect my privacy and if I can’t have secrets then why should you Mr. Let’s-have-sinful-thoughts-about-Diavolo-while-drunk?” Lucifer went red, glaring at Satan. Diavolo also went a bit red, blinking a few times.

“This isn’t a secret that should be kept. You know you are suppose to talk to us before-”

“Before dating, I know, I know. However, the thought of me thinking about it makes all six of you go loco so I had to keep it a secret. Plus, both of us preferred it and we wouldn’t have this issue if it wasn’t for Levi.”

“Who did the right thing of-”

“Taking our picture without permission while we were out and about.” Barbatos added, walking over and taking Satan’s hand. He could hear the growls from Satan’s uncles and father.

“Also, thank you Levi for making today go a bit worse.” Satan stated, gripping Barbatos’ hand and walking out of the room so no more questions could be asked. Barbatos heard Lucifer start yelling about them.

“Sorry for revealing us, Barbatos.” He apologized when they got to his bedroom. Barbatos shook his head.

“It’s not your fault, neither of us could’ve known that Levi was going to appear.”

“Guess we can’t hide it anymore.”

“Well, that’s better.” Satan cocked his head in confusion

“What do you mean?”

“Now no one can send you those letters anymore.” Satan laughed, hiding his face in Barbatos’ shoulder blade. Barbatos smiled, wrapping his arms around Satan.

“You are more protective than my family.” The blonde joked. Barbatos rolled his eyes, kissing Satan’s head.

“Only for you darling.”

[steves-on-a-plane]

Dont Get Attached (Pt 18)

Part One / Part Two / Part Three / Part Four / Part Five / Part Six / Part Seven/ Part Eight / Part Nine / Part Ten / Part Eleven / Part Twelve / Part Thirteen / Part Fourteen / Part Fifteen / Part Sixteen / Part Seventeen

Words: 1350 Connor x Daughter!Reader W/ Dad!Hank Anderson  Summary: No longer running for their lives, Connor takes a minute to asses Reader's injuries and decides stitches will be needed to repair the damage. He wants to take her to the hospital, but she worries this will put him at unnecessary risk. 

“Ooof.” You hissed before throwing yourself into the passenger’s seat of your own car.  The door was swung open wide and your legs dangled outside of the vehicle. You leaned to the side, pressing your head against the dashboard. The exact details of your escape from Jericho were fuzzy. You remembered everything in frozen stills; like photographs.

The family of androids huddled together, sitting on top cases of replacement thirium. Connor pointing his gun at Marcus. Running through the ship, trying to avoid being killed. The horror of being caught by one of the soldiers. Being lucky that he believed Connor’s passable lies.

“[Y/N?” Connor crouched down so that you could see his face. Your eyes snapped over to him, but it seemed your memories weren’t the only thing that was fuzzy. You squinted, struggling to keep Connor’s face in focus.

“You’ve lost a lot of blood from your leg.” He had said it so calmly. Monotone, in only a way that an android could be. “[Y/N], can you hear me?”

“Y-yeah.” You told him slowly. Your head felt light and your limbs heavy.

“I’m going to have to move your legs.” He explained. “I need to get you in the car so that I can take you to the hospital. Your left leg needs stitches.”

“Hospital?” You frowned. “No. You can’t. You’re an android. They’ll send you back to Cyberlife. They might replace you. Disassemble you.”

“That’s a risk I’m willing to take.” Connor decided. “I promised Hank I would keep you safe.”

“He’d kill me if he found out I let anyone take you.” You argued. “Especially now that you’re…”

“We don’t have time to argue, [Y/N].” Connor told you firmly. He reached for your legs to begin moving them into the car but you stopped him.

“Wait. I have an idea.” You adjusted yourself so that you could open your car’s glove box. You dug around with shaky hands until you found an emergency sewing kit.

“[Y/N], no.” Connor shook his head. “It’s not sterile. The risk of infection…”

“There’s half a bottle of whisky under the seat.” You gestured towards the backseat of your car. Connor looked at you incredulously before opening the car’s back door and dipping his head down. “It’s the one we found Dad with awhile back. It’s been rolling around in my car since I took it from him. Sewing kit for sutures and whiskey to sterilize. Everything you need.”

“[Y/N]…” Connor looked between the sewing kit in your lap and the bottle in his hands. “The hospital will have skilled surgeons, proper antiseptic and pain medicine or anesthesia…”

“And probably cops or representatives from Cyberlife.” You continued for him. “Maybe even deviant androids who want to hurt humans. You promised Dad you’d keep me safe? This is how you do that. Now, hurry up before I change my mind.”

Connor collected the sewing kit from your lap, still looking decidedly unhappy about the situation. He set everything on the hood of your car. He opened the sewing kit and looped black thread through a needle of what he thought was the appropriate gauge. He uncapped the whiskey and poured a generous amount over the needle and thread. At last he stood over you prepared to begin. He hesitated again.

“[Y/N], I’ll need to remove your pants to clean the…” His sentence trailed off.

“A minute ago, I was so bad off I needed to be carted away to the hospital. Now you’re comfortable letting me bleed to death in a parking lot because of some bullshit modesty programing?” You scoffed, already unbuttoning your jeans. If you weren’t so out of it, you might have noticed Connor bowing his head to hide the smirk on his face. You sounded just like Hank.

“Are we gonna do this or what?” You huffed. There was a hint of annoyance in your voice and a slight amusement but both of those only masked pain and fear. This time Connor didn’t laugh at how much you sounded like the Lieutenant.

You knew you’d want to scream before he even began pouring the brown colored liquid onto your thigh. Bracing for the pain, you shoved the sleeve of Connor’s jacket into your mouth. The Parking lot was relatively abandoned this time of night, but you couldn’t risk alerting humans or android to your position.

“Give me that will, ya?” You motioned for the bottle as Connor moved to set it down. Connor handed it over, no questions asked. You held the bottle by the neck and gulped a mouthful of whiskey down. It didn’t dull the pain in your leg but the sweet and sour taste distracted you momentarily from the needle Connor had begun poking into your skin.

Connor was glad that androids didn’t need to breath. If they did, he was certain he wouldn’t be about to work without shaky hands as he could now. He felt you wince beneath his touch as he tugged the needle through your soft skin. Humans are so fragile. He lamented, still trying to remain focused on the task at hand. Your face was slowly draining of color, but by his calculations you hadn’t lost more than a pint of blood yet. That was good all things considered. Humans would donate roughly that amount to blood banks and their bodies could replenish it entirely unaided in a matter of weeks.

Connor tried to work quickly, both to stop the bleeding and to not prolong your pain. The regrettable side effect of this was that his stitching was haphazard, uneven. He wasn’t a medical android after all. As he continued on, Connor felt guilty? He supposed that’s what a human would call it. Emotions were all so new to him that he had no way of knowing for sure.

His inexperienced stitching would leave scars. Scars that you would have because of him. Scars from an injury you had sustained because of him. Because he’d let you come along with him when he shouldn’t have. He was almost certain that if he had a stomach it would feel tight and knotted as humans describe. Yes, he was certain. This was guilt.

“See.” You exhaled when you felt him finish off the last stitch. “I knew you could do it.”

“[Y/N], I’m…”

“Do me one last favor will you?” You asked, looking up at him. If Connor wasn’t sure that he was a fully functional machine,  he would have thought his thirium pump had skipped a beat. The way you looked up at him wasn’t accusatory or angry. Somehow this made his guilt worse. “I’ve got a clean pair of sweatpants in my trunk.” You explained, holding out your car keys for him.

“Of course, [Y/N].” He nodded before leaving to retrieve your desired clothing item. Connor cleaned up his makeshift medical bay, replacing Hank’s whiskey under your back seat and the sewing kit in the glove box.

You stood up slowly to pull your pants the rest of the way on. You staggered slightly and a hiss of pain escaped your mouth as the pants brushed against your sutures. Luckily Connor was there. He held you upright by the elbows until you could steady yourself.

“Thank you.” You said to him. “I know that wasn’t easy. Where to now?”

“I’m taking you home.” Connor insisted.

“Connor, no.” You shook your head. “I can’t go home now. Not after seeing what I saw. People need to know Androids are alive. They have emotions. They have families! They deserve to be free!”

“[Y/N], I can’t keep putting you in danger.” He argued.

“Why should the safety of one-person matter more than hundreds or thousands of other lives?” You asked him.

“Because…” Connor’s face twisted in frustration. It was a new expression. Something you hadn’t seem from him before. He didn’t say anything for a long time and you thought maybe you’d broken him. You reached out and touched his cheek. You could feel the whirl of biocomponents under his warm synthetic skin.

@racrneko @that-random-chick-named-tori @noodledraw@mariahlambslbs @sdavid09 @baebecca @black-and-white-eyes@twdpansy @revenge-parti @grievance-s@mikithekiki  @kazuha159 @dragonempress123 @the-razy-pie-rope@layinglonely @talle-2002 @trash-is-my-name @geolusun@professionalfangirl1738 @ask-angel-of-death @havanbcby @beautifulsilvermarch @myemoescape @sweetlittleviper@fineactually @manymanyenvelopes @demonpandu @mikkasao @21putnamp@comeheretiger @pringtella @deathbyhollywood @itstrashleydude@clowntapus @dragonempress123@tenderlytremendouskittens @lovelittledoyouknow @etherealpeachh @omelys-space @xesthete-cxssi @itstrashleydude @loopy-lolly-loo @abigfanofyours @onceuponagleepottermindlock @missjayi @treanna-hatake @bunnie-kookie @bvngtanboiz @kumamno @jinwonholeo @erinitoburrito @kinggst @line-viper @treanna-hatake @pxnisparker @goalsweight @ayajackson @taylor-swifter-sweeper @ohskit @ninatheotter @regular-mexican-girl @katiekitty261@iknowrocknroll567 @Ispheygurl @hidenbarrista @doctorpaintedwhore @cliche-female-protagonist@fairytailwzard @hollowmasque @syrinxgm @misbhv-ur @sugaraddict @thelavachick @nikkidawnlight @hollowmasque@fairytailwzard @patchworkdabi @fearlesspatroclus @dbhtrashftw @writingpromptsstuff @fearlesspatroclus @xalinx @dbhtrashftw @awkard-fangirl88 @cindersonick @spookydun-iplier@spacekidarayo @anglemae @redlovett@xalinx @letthembehappymcu @itsfangirlmendes @dechartduo @rainbowzephyr @sherlockspie @mybrilliantusername@wishuponawriter @fandomloverlord221

[ellynneversweet]

Ok, so I’ve finished Normal People and I have ... thoughts. Mostly about whether it succeeds or fails as a text, and what the relative metrics are by which success should be judged (it’s succeeded in getting me to think about it, for sure). This got long and a bit ranty, and does discuss the mental illness aspects of the book, so I’ve put it below the cut. Spoilers etc.

I haven’t watched the show or read any of Sally Rooney’s other books (book?) or reviews yet, because I wanted to get down what I took away from the book by itself, rather than what other people thought about it. I did see the headline of like, one review that seemed to think it was all about capitalism, which struck me as a significant stretch as a primary theme, but hey. My take was that it was primarily concerned with (many and various) degrees of mental illness and unwellness experienced by various characters, the causes and effects thereof, etc etc, and it’s really because of that that I don’t know whether or not I actually liked the book.

Ultimately I think my ambivalence comes comes down to how the narration is structured, and the way Rooney doesn’t at any point step in explicitly prompt the audience in one direction or another.

So what took me a hot minute to realise was that the book’s written in a very close third person narration, alternating between Connell and Marianne’s perspectives.The thing is, however, that this close third person isn’t immediately obvious, because Rooney subverts the whole ‘show don’t tell’ advice. There’s a lot of phrasing given as ‘she felt good’ ‘he felt anxious’ ‘then they had sex’ etc.  The most personal aspects of the plot are constantly elided with this flat, clinical, definitive language that sounds almost like a witness statement in a criminal case. That’s especially the case with Marianne, who disassociates a lot, and slightly less so with Connell, who’s anxious, but the flat description is pretty present throughout. There are moments when the narrative dips into describing sensation, but that seems to occur only with regards to things that are irrelevant and impersonal, like drinking a glass of (insert carbonated beverage here), or feeling the breeze from an air conditioner. The book is all about this very intimate, arguably co-dependant and unhealthy relationship between these two intermittently sexually involved characters, so the aforementioned flatness struck me as an odd choice initially.

However. There’s two things that this does. The first, and IMO more significant, is that is creates an illusion of the narrative voice as omniscient and impartial, rather than biased and unreliable as it actually is. The seeming authority of the definitive statements in the narrative is emphasised by the stock filler phrases that the each of the dual protagonists uses in direct dialogue, and which inevitably mean the opposite of what’s actually said — in the case of Marianne we get ‘okay’ (I disagree but I want this conversation to end) and ‘I don’t know’ (i believe this to be profoundly true but it makes me unhappy), and in the case of Connell we get ‘obviously’ (I’m not sure at all, what do you think?). So the upshot of this is that especially in the earlier parts of the novel the audience is led into thinking the description of a particular plot point is what objectively happened, rather than the biased viewpoint of one of two people who keep talking past each other (I’m thinking particularly of the part in which Connell moves home because he can’t make rent, and each of them was waiting for the other to propose his moving into her flat instead).

So it is really interesting on that level of language structure. I do feel that the section headings (‘two weeks later,’ ‘six months later,’ ‘five minutes later’) were a bit of a red herring — especially towards the climax of the book, when things became violent, I was frankly expecting it to take a schlocky turn towards one or both of the main characters being maimed or killed in a domestic violence and/or drunk driving accident, à la Jodi Piccoult.

It didn’t, which was a relief, but I didn’t subsequently find the ending satisfying, and I think that’s because the way that it ended — a breakup that’s not really a breakup, just a breather — felt like something that had occurred at least three or four times already in the text. It’s always tricky to write a satisfying ending when all the main characters are alive and young and (presumably) going to continue their lives. Why stop the narrative here, rather than there? I think for that sort of ending to work, a story does need to feel like it’s shifting into a different stage of the characters’ lives, one that can be inferred, however dimly, but is distinct enough from the part described in the text to form a natural break. This didn’t feel like a break from what had gone before. It felt like a groove in an emotional cycle that had already been repeated, that had been shown as being repeated, that gave every sign of being repeated again and again, forever and ever amen.

This leads into the part where I talk about what I didn’t like, fyi, and fair warning, mostly what I didn’t like was the characterisation of Marianne. Sorry if she’s your fave.

So Marianne gets the last word of the narrative, in which she thinks about how ‘they’ve [Marianne and Connell] been so good for each other’. And i would argue two things, which is that 1) unreliable narrator or not, this being the last part of the text gives weight to this being read as a true statement 2) this is, uh, pretty clearly not the case. Marianne’s still fundamentally the same, teetering on the edge of self-destruction, and Connell is still anxious (and being made more so by Marianne’s reaction to his small successes).

Now, neither character is perfect. They’re also not bad people -- but they are struggling people who use maladaptive coping strategies and don’t ever really appear to move past those.

At first glance, on a scale of quantifying unhappiness, Marianne gets the raw end of the stick. She’s a character who’s sympathetic and pitiable, because she starts out as the smart, bullied kid who turns out to have an abusive home life and who is brutally dumped by her first boyfriend. So far, so sad. Connell, by contrast, is much less upfront about the things that cause him trouble (although they’re very much there) and has the initial upper hand. Connell also comes off as much more self-aware than Marianne — the part where he’s lying on the floor in a post-shower depression slump reminds me of that piece that goes around tumblr occasionally, about lying on the floor sobbing about the state of the world, and simultaneously noticing that the last time you painted, you didn’t do a good job with the brushwork in the corner you’re looking at, and thinking about how you should re-do it once you finish crying.

But the thing I can’t get my head around with Marianne is how Rooney feels about her, and it boils down to this: what level of awareness and intentionality is Rooney operating at when writing about Marianne’s mental health arc? Does Rooney agree with Marianne’s self-assessment of herself as ‘better’ and ‘normal’ (ie still acting in more or less the same way as she did throughout the text, but no longer a subject of gossip) at the end of the book, or does she not?

As I mentioned, I haven’t seen the adaptation, but I’ve seen a gif or two, and what struck me as I was reading was that the way that Marianne is described as looking (and styled in the show) is reminiscent of the pop-culture caricature of Sylvia Plath — increasingly thin, indie-fashionista, bangs, statement lipstick, weird but precociously brilliant, magnetic, male muse and male victim, mentally ill in a way that is complex but always sexy and sexualised (of course she developed a cute, posh eating disorder that involved eating half an expensive sugary pastry and a sugarless black coffee every day. Of course she did).

Basically, what I want to know is, is Marianne someone Rooney wrote based on that image of Plath, or is Marianne someone cosplaying as that image of Plath, whom Rooney is consciously deconstructing?

See, I think writing Marianne as someone (possibly unintentionally) cosplaying Plath is interesting. The myth of the hot, damaged girl is pretty pervasive (Harley Quinn, the suicide girls, etc etc) and writing Marianne as a character who has legitimate issues that she has trouble facing, who then instead focuses her self-awareness into this trope of ‘acceptably damaged’ has potential. I feel like there’s an opportunity there to examine the line between struggling with a mental illness vs self-consciously performing that struggle in a way that’s socially acceptable, which is a topic that suits the period when the novel’s set.

Unfortunately though, I think Rooney is probably buying into that myth rather than  examining it, because the fact that no-one, in a book that starts in 2011 ever sits Marianne down and goes, ‘yes, I get that people have told you you’re mentally unwell as a tactic to bully you, and that was shitty, but you pretty clearly have a raging case of ptsd which is NOT YOUR FAULT, please accept some help’ — that is frankly hard to believe. Not Connell who seeks out therapy and takes some dubiously successful medication? Not Joanna, who is by all accounts well adjusted and who makes a point of caring in a friendship where she’s doing a lot the heavy lifting? Not Lorraine, parent of the decade? Not some random teacher or professor, looking out for an obviously promising student?  Really, no one?

Marianne is supposedly brilliant and a tireless researcher, but she apparently never becomes aware of the possibility that there might be ways to process her past experiences in a way that would allow her some measure of peace. Never wants it, even in the worst of times. Never ceases to wallow in her own unhappiness. And it’s relevant, I think, that in the period of the novel where Marianne is (kind of) happy, when she’s making a success of things at uni, the focus of the book is on how she’s making Connell jealous by dating an abusive man. The closes she comes to self-awareness is recognising her proclivity to seek out unhealthy relationships and decide to lean into that, in what is consistently the least unhealthy romantic relationship she has. That feels like a cop-out.

Like, I’m not suggesting that every story that features mental illness as a theme needs to show recovery. That’s, unfortunately, not always the case. Some people never get better. Some people can’t bring themselves to believe in the possibility of getting better. It’s not even the case that recovery is a straight line, when it happens. I know that. I’ve seen people I care about it struggle with a whole range of problems, I’ve struggled myself. But this felt like 13 Reasons Why for adults, like depression-porn, and I just...am a bit angry, I think, that I can’t tell if that was the intention, it that wasn’t the intention but was the outcome, or if that’s just my take and I’ve misread the thing entirely.

Obviously people can write whatever they want in fiction, but I do think that when you’re dealing with a topic that has impacted a lot of people, that’s been poorly handed in fiction in the past, you do have a responsibility to treat it sensitive and thoughtfully, and not glamorise something that is ultimately destructive under the guise of ‘this is interesting and cool, and a good way to treat yourself and others, actually.’ And I don’t know if that’s the case here.

[cyoza]

adrenaline; part six (final chapter)

Hello!

This is it! The final chapter!

I wanted to kind of mimic part three where Dick is sharing what happened with his parents and kind of end it kinda of open just in case I wanted to do a sequel later. Especially now the show has been renewed for season 3 (very exciting). I also wanted more softness and allow Kory to have her emotions rather than be the badass queen we all know her as; she’s been through it this season and it’s sometimes forgotten. 

But yep, this is the final chapter, thanks everyone for all the support and sticking with me! I've really appreciated it!

Hope you enjoyed reading!

part one 

part two

part three

part four

part five   

- 

‘Careful, Kory!’ 

Dick stood from his seat on the chair next to her bed and began fussing around her, wrapping an arm around her back and supporting her as she sat up against the pillow. Kory fought the urge to swat him away, feeling more than frustrated by his almost smothering attitude. However, as much as she was exasperated by his hovering, on some level he had a right to be worried. The simple move of lifting herself up knocked the wind out of her and swept a wave of exhaustion through her. In the few hours she’d been awake, she had felt her strength return to her at a snail's pace, again aggravating her to no end. Arguably the strongest person on the team, it was unnatural for her to feel so incapacitated and she was finding it hard not to take it out on the people swarming around her.

Moments after awakening, the team had poured in after hearing Dick’s cries of relief. They had then dotted themselves around the room unwilling to leave her except to retrieve things for her; water, food - pretty much anything she’d asked for appeared in her hand within minutes. Whilst Kory appreciated it, she couldn’t help but feel overwhelmed by the constant attention, especially when she was still slightly disoriented from spending such a long time unconscious. Dick being Dick, sensed this and pushed everyone out of the room not long after so she could take a breather. Nonetheless, he stayed put, refusing to leave her side. It helped that he didn’t force her to talk, just being a presence close to her but jumping to attention if she so much as lifted a finger. Even still, she could tell that he was growing impatient, wanting to hear what happened to her as much as he tried to hide it. So she cleared her throat and began to talk. 

‘I guess you’re wanting me to explain what happened whilst I was away.’ She started but Dick cut her off almost immediately. 

‘Kory, it’s okay if you’re not ready. I’m just so glad you’re okay.’ He reassured, placing himself on the empty space next to her on the bed and gripping her hand. 

‘No, no it has to be done. For everyone’s safety.’ She stated gravely, igniting a flash of confusion in his face. ‘It’s been a rough few weeks I’ll be honest. But I guess I’ll start at the beginning. Remember a while back, when I said I had a jump start in getting my memory back? It wasn’t entirely just a jumpstart, I got everything back. I remembered being a princess, everything back in Tamaran. I knew what it would mean to go back. And I tried to put it off as much as I could, I wanted to stay. I wanted to be free here. Back home, you know, everything gets decided for you. How to dress, who to marry, your entire life. But here...you guys just get to be. And I wanted that. I wanted it bad..’ Kory broke off, her voice growing hoarse as her throat swelled with tears. 

Dick said nothing, looking forlorn as he listened to her talk, squeezing her hand tighter; an action that said ‘I’m here, you’re safe.’ So, she continued. 

‘The ‘jump start’ part was thanks to a visitor from there - Royal Protection Services to be exact. He was sent here to take me back and I was going to go, I didn’t want to escalate things and it was my duty after all. But then Rachel called and I knew I couldn’t leave. I already didn’t want to go but hearing that she needed me just, I don’t know, cemented it, if that makes sense. But then I got a call another, that day that I told you I was leaving. It was him, the Royal Protection Services, Fiddei -’ Her voice cut out yet again but this time it was accompanied by a glimmer of liquid in her eye. 

Dick’s chest tightened as he watched her raise her gaze to the ceiling in an attempt to push back her tears - this person was obviously important to her and this couldn’t have ended well. The wretched feeling in his chest got even worse when he realised she felt like she had to be strong in front of him. Even moreso, when he remembered how many times he’d laid himself bare in front of her without fear of judgement and here she was holding herself back in front of the one person on earth who would never judge her. 

So he shifted even closer to her and placed a hand on her cheek bringing her eyes back to him. The action seemed to break the dam because the next thing he knew she gave him a tremulous smile before the tears tumbled down exponentially. It was a beat before she continued. 

‘My sister. She,um, she killed my parents. Everyone important. Fiddei, he came back to warn me and she took over his body. I had to kill him. Everyone I knew and cared about - just gone. By someone who was supposed to be on my side. And the only other person from my planet who was close to me, who understood me on some level, she made me kill.’ She let out a sobbing gasp. ‘And I tried to get back here to regroup but she just kept sending soldiers after me. It kept getting tougher and tougher to fight them alone and it was taking longer and longer for me to recover. I barely made it back here, I was just so...tired. But I kept thinking if I could just make it home, if I could just get to you, there was a chance I could be okay.’ She whimpered. 

Dick was overcome with her admission, not knowing what to do. He wanted to envelop her in his arms so she was never hurt again, he wanted to cry with her for all she’d been through, more than anything he wanted to find her sister and kill her himself. Yet, all he could manage was a tense press of his lips and a stroke of her cheek, very aware that any other manoeuvre could damage her further and potentially halt her recovery. But he also knew that she needed more than that. 

‘You’re home Kory, and you will be okay. I promise you. Even if it kills me, I will make sure that you end up okay.’ 

- 

Kory had drifted back to sleep not long after dropping the bombshell on him, clearly exhausted after such an intense recollection. Dick, on the other hand, was still completely wired. Unable to stop the one thought that was running circles in his mind; Kory could have died. She could have genuinely died. And in her death, not only would humanity be destroyed but he would be long before that would even come close to happening. 

They hadn’t discussed his earlier declaration, its importance paling in comparison to the situation they now had. Especially when you factored in that they still had Slade running amuck to consider. But he couldn’t help but think about it. He prayed that she knew it wasn’t out of desperation but that every part of him was genuinely, irrefutably in love with her. And he didn’t know that she knew. If everything else went to shit in the future, he wanted that to be the thing that survived to her. 

‘Hey, what time is it?’ Kory croaked, pulling him from his thoughts. 

He instinctively stood up from the chair to get closer to her,  in case she needed anything. 

‘It’s half 8. Everyone’s just having dinner, unsurprisingly it’s pizza.’ He informed her, prompting a breathless chuckle from Kory. 

‘Why aren’t you  with them? Have you had anything to eat?’ She inquired, worry coating her voice. 

‘Kory, you’re the one in a cot, why are you worrying about me?’ He asked with a roll of his eyes. 

‘Because I know you, Dick. You put everyone else first and yourself last.’ She paused, apprehension overtaking her. ‘Besides, I found something out. Turns out that the theory that people who are comatose can hear their surroundings is true. So...I heard you talking but it didn’t seem like anybody else was here - I didn’t hear anybody else here. Who were you talking to?’ She questioned hesitantly. 

Dick’s heart dropped to his feet. Shit.This is the last thing he wanted to happen. God, she was going to think he was insane - maybe he was insane but he certainly didn’t want her to think that. He ran a hand over his face, not knowing what to say. He knew he had to be honest but how was he going to tell her what had been happening with him. So instead he did what he knows best to do - avoid the subject. 

‘Kory, it doesn’t matter right now, there’s so many other things to focus on that are more important.’

She gave him a disbelieving and frankly concerned look but didn’t object, either deciding that there had been enough sharing or was too tired to argue with him. However, if the glint in her eye was anything to go by, it didn’t mean that she would be forgetting about it anytime soon. 

‘So this situation with Blackfire...I know we already have so much to deal with but-’ Dick cut her off. 

‘We’re behind you. All the way.’ He reassured her. 

‘Always.’ The word didn’t come from either of them but from a new voice by the door. 

Both Dick and Kory turned their gaze to the door to find Donna, Rachel and Gar piled into the door frame. 

‘What do you need?’ Rachel spoke again, eyes hard and dark.

Kory felt a warm pride bloom in her chest as she looked at all three of them. They were willing to fight for her without needing an explanation, just that she needed them. They were her family now. 

She knew then that maybe everything would be okay; as long as she had them behind her. 

[cecilspeaks]

147 - The Protester

Hot singles in your area are staring into the forest and grinning absently. 

Welcome to Night Vale.

Astronomers are frantically trying to determine why a chunk of the moon is missing. Ragged and greedy like a slice removed from a pie by hungry hands rather than a civilized serving utensil, the gap in the moon has been baffling professional sky gazers for weeks. Fun fact: did you know a group of astronomers is called a commotion?

Astronomers believe the moon could be eroding, because people have stopped believing in it, like ancient Roman polytheism. Others have theorized that the moon was damaged by enemy ships in the ongoing Blood Space War. But people on the internet have countered that this is part of the mandala effect, and that that piece of the moon has always been missing and we’re collectively misremembering. Like how those beloved picture book bears that we all remember as the Berenstein Bears, have by all physical evidence always actually been spelled “The Dog Pound Boyzzzz”. Boyz with a Z. Because of the 2016 city ordinance that proclaimed that anything can be true if you say it loud enough, astronomers are forced to consider all sides.

I don’t know any astronomers, but I do know a scientist! My husband Carlos has been the leading scientific mind in Night Vale since we started dating, almost six years ago. Carlos says that he has been studying and interesting meteorite he found out in the sand wastes and scrublands beyond Night Vale. He believes this particular rock is a piece of the moon. Standing before a giant wall of blinking lights, flickering screens and intermittent beeps, Carlos determined that this piece of the moon broke off only one month ago. But this is impossible, because no one can remember seeing the moon breaking apart in the sky. Well, maybe we were all asleep when it happened, I told Carlos as I dabbed away a small crumb from a cheese Danish that had gotten stuck in his beard. Oh, fun fact: Carlos grew a beard! And I have never liked beards on men, but now – I do. It’s got two thin silver racing stripes down the chin, and the hair is so soft. We’ve been married over two years and every day, I fall more in love.

Oh right, the moon, OK good God, always with the moon. [mutters] Yeah, yeah… Carlos has been studying an unusual number of empty homes and businesses about town. He noticed that the houses on either side of us are completely empty, but he didn’t remember them being empty before. He remembers us having neighbors, but he couldn’t name a single thing about them. He believes this might be related to the damaged moon. Whatever happened a month ago to the moon immediately caused us all to forget it, because something in our timeline changed. Carlos said: “Perhaps we are not forgetting people and events, perhaps they never existed at all.” His eyes were cloudy with pensive thought, and I touched his furry cheek and said: “You’ll save us, hon. I know you will.” He smiled and asked if I’d be willing to reach out to archeology professor Harrison Kip again. Carlos, uh, had been communicating with Kip about this very issue, but now emails to Harrison keep bouncing back, and his phone number is no longer in the phone company’s database of working numbers. I laughed and said: “Carlos, I don’t know who Harrison Kip is!” Carlos looked worried, and said he wasn’t sure he did either. But he felt like he should.

Protestors have organized a sit in in front of city hall, demanding an end to the Blood Space War. The city council, seeing the crowd of about 150 people gathered around the front entrance of their building, took immediate action. They announced they would be taking a long planned family vacation to the Badlands National Park in South Dakota, until this whole protest thing runs its course. “We don’t believe South Dakota actually exists,” the single-bodied, multi-voiced council said. “When you look at a map, it seems like it exists, like it’s just right there when you look at it and it’s between two other identical states, so it would make more sense for it to be there than not. Anyway, this feels like a great time to take the kids to see Mount Rushmore.” As the city council said this, several small childlike heads emerged from the city council’s singular body and screamed in happy unison. Or terrified unison. Mm, it’s hard to get an emotional reading on screams.

The organizer of the protest is 20-year-old Night Vale community college student, Basimah Bishara, whose father Lieutenant Fakir Bishara returned home from the Blood Space War three years ago. Basimah greeted her father’s return with joy, but that joy has since been replaced by confusion and pain. Let’s hear Basimah’s story in her own words.

Basimah: Time no longer works correctly for my father. I understand time does not work correctly for many people in Night Vale, but it had always worked correctly for him before the war. In December 2015, he returned home after 11 years of serving our city, our country, our planet in a war that still makes no sense to me. I was six when he volunteered for service, he was 30. 11 years later when he returned home, I was 17. My father was 19. He did not remember joining in the war nor having a daughter nor meeting his wife. He is a teenager, like I was. I no longer am a teenager, but my father still is. He has stayed 19 years old. Time no longer works correctly for him.

My mother Tahira raised me. She expressed reticence about the band I started, the music we played. She grounded me when my grades slipped and shouted at me when I told her I had a girlfriend. But she came to love Marina and more, my mother came to understand as both as people, as women. Not as rivers to be damned or levied.

My father’s return has been especially hard on her, because she is 45 and her husband is a 19-year-old stranger. You probably know what it’s like to have a father, to have a man much older than you who changed your diapers or watched your diapers being changed. Who taught you to speak or ride a bike, who helped you develop as a human from an animal from a larva from the simplest, squirming wad of meat into an adult. That father will always be a father, not a friend, not an equal, a father. You probably do not know what it’s like to see a father at your age, to talk with your father when he is also barely an adult. To have your father lonely and inquisitive think of you as his only friend in the world, while you look to him for guidance and love. But he is incapable of both, at least not in the way you need to be guided and loved.

It took two years for Fakir to open up about the war and it still makes no sense to him nor me. The Blood Space War requires constant shifts through time, through worm holes to change lost battles into won battles, to undo what has already been undone thousands, millions of times over. The future does not look like a blank page, it looks like a tattered sheet of paper, grayed and frayed from countless transcriptions and erasures of history. Battles are won and then undone through time travel. We lose our lives and then regain them by traveling backwards and fighting again. We are winning the war by perpetuating the war. Last month, the Polonians attacked our earth, I am sure of it. The only evidence is our broken moon. I believe the general undid this attack with time travel and this has changed our reality, changed who was born, who ever lived in the first place. People are disappearing because they will have never existed.

People think we’re crazy for protesting. I’m 20 and my father is still 19. I’m not crazy. My mother Tahira is not crazy. We are angry.

Our next protest is scheduled this afternoon at the corner of Earl and Somerset by the Dog Park near the Ralphs.

Cecil: Not sure what Basimah was referring to. That’s an empty lot by the Ralphs. There was word for a dog park to be built there many years ago, but it never materialized.

[clears throat] Let’s have a look now at local news. Earth sciences professor Simone Rigideau announced today that she is scrapping all text books and lesson plans at the community college in favor of organized prayer to a god named Huntokar. Several students and parents argued against such an extreme divergence from core curriculum in favor of French religious practices, but college president Sarah Sultan supported her staff member by saying: “Cut Simone some slack. She doesn’t even teach classes. She’s a transient who lived in a storage closet inside the earth sciences building for 20 years. The only reason she has the title of professor is because of antiquated squatter’s rights laws.” Rigideau donned rabbit furs and an old bicycle frame wraught into the shape of antlers, and began spray paintin the Fibonacci sequence on the cars in the college parking lot, all the while singing a ballad about clocks.

The intergalactic military headquarters released their first quarter earnings statmenet this week. Investors were displeased to see that each of the board members of the privately own space defense contractor had purchased a 125-foot yachts and NFL franchises. But those fears were quickly allayed by the announcement of layoffs of more than 5,000 employees. Stock prices for the intergalactic military soared to an all time high this afternoon, at 490 dollars a share. Senior strategic advisor Jameson Archibald said the intergalactic military has no actual earned income. 100 per cent of their gross is from venture capital. Archibald said: “Some investors keep asking how we plan to monetize our military, which is a stupid question, man! I mean, look at this Patek Philippe watch I bought. It’s encrusted with 10 pounds of diamonds, and the watch face was made using an actual piece of the Sistine Chapel. We are doing fine.” Archibald added that the intergalactic military is developing an app and a subscription service that allows people to engage in celestial war fare any time they want for only 12,99 a month.

Alright, listeners, I heard back from Basimah, and she said I was right. There is no dog park. Of course I was right. If I knew there was a dog park being built in this town, I would have reported it immediately. Carlos and I have a dog. His name is Aubergine because he’s purple and European, and Auby is adorable and we love him dearly. I mean, I wasn’t into the idea of having to care for a dog, but Carlos strongly urged this case one morning over breakfast when he said, “I think we should get a dog”, and 20 minutes later, we were leaving the SPCA with our adopted pet. [clears throat]

Basimah said she was positive there was a dog park next to the Ralphs, but when she arrived at the corner of Earl and Somerset, it was all empty lots. To be honest, I don’t remember her mentioning a Ralphs before, because I would have corrected her. There’s never been a Ralphs affiliate in Night Vale. This is what Basimah had to say. Um, hang on, let me just insert the tape I used to record her. And there we go.

Basimah: If a person never exists, did they disappear? If you never knew them, can you miss them? My father spends most of his days playing basketball with friends he made at the rec center. He is 19 years old and trying to escape a decade of inescapable drama from warfare. Asked him who my mother was. I grew up with only my uncle Omar and did not know my parents until my father returned from war. Fakir did not remember my mother. He did not remember his marriage or my birth, because it has not happened yet in his timeline. Asked what if mother didn’t exist at all. What if the general’s time traveling has altered our lives so much that my mother was never born and you can never meet her. My father, the teenager said: “If I never met a woman, I do not know I will not miss her. But I’ll meet another woman.” I asked: “What if I was never born?” My dad said: “Basi?” He hid his tears and then he hugged me, but it was not the hug of a father and daughter. It was the hug of a son and mother. He buried his head into my shoulder and sobbed, repeating: “Basi! Basi!” And I comforted his heaving head with my palm. I said: “Father, Fakir. I think I shall no longer exist soon. [voice fades] I think I-

Oh OK, sorry for the dead air, listeners, I was playing a recording of an interview I did. Wait, nope. I just checked, there’s no tape in the player at all. I thought I had been talking with… Ugh. Aah! Who have I been talking to? Maybe it was my husband Carlos reporting on his findings about the damage done to our moon or, mh, or maybe it was nothing at all. [clears throat] Well, let us forget that we forgot, and go now To the weather.

[Shake” by Wednesday’s Wolves https://www.wednesdayswolves.com]

We have an update on the Blood Space War, Night Vale. John Peters says his brother has returned home again. When he left a month ago, James Peters was 22 years old. But he is now in his seventies, which is the age he should be. John held his brother tightly, crying in gratitude and relief that his own family could return to some kind of normalcy. James at first was heartened to see John again, to see his home again, and to learn that he and the general had thwarted the Polonian attack on our planet. But his tearful smile drifted slowly downward, an evening shadow overtaken by night. Upon James’ face now was the sudden knowledge that he had made a grave error. James looked around Night Vale seeing empty lots and homes, abandoned buildings and sparse streets. According to James, thousands of people have gone missing from Night Vale, because they never existed or never moved here in the first place. The general had leapt in time to successfully stop the Polonians from ever reaching Earth, but the change in the timeline caused Night Vale to change too.

Listeners, this may seem strange, but perhaps there are people you once knew, family you once lived with, places you were in, all of which are gone, and without your knowing. I have tried hard to think of any memory of any experience or person I have lost in the last month, but I can think of none. I told James Peters that perhaps the change in timeline did not matter if no one knew what they had lost, if no one noticed any change. James said: “Cecil, I just don’t know. I don’t know. Maybe if we had a scientific perspective on this, we could better understand how this is affecting us as a community.” And I said I didn’t know any scientists, not personally anyway. There’s the strange woman who lives in the storage closet at the community college, I suppose we could ask her.

The important thing is that we are safe, and that another veteran has returned home, and it is another beautiful day in Night Vale.

Stay tuned next for “Conspiring to Love”, our new relationship advice show, which as a lifelong bachelor sounds like something I should check out.

Good night, Night Vale, Good night.

Today’s proverb: “Nothing lasts forever” is a phrase with two meanings, and they’re both true.

[iamartemisday]

The Highest Bidder- a Pepperony fic

A/N: This is my unfortunately late gift for @xxdustnight88 as part of the @womenofmcu‘s Valentine’s Day exchange.

Hope you enjoy!

Pepper had been working as Tony Stark’s personal assistant for nine months, one week, and six days. Here’s what she’d learned:

He drank dark roast coffee with two sugars and one milk.

His favorite band was AC/DC, and she was ninety-nine percent positive he secretly owned the rights to all their music.

He would wear the same pair of jeans multiple days in a row even though he had two closets full of designer clothes.

He preferred blondes with large breasts and long legs, though he’d happily take a brunette to his bed. Very few redheads, though. Not that she cared.

He had no concept of circadian rhythms and didn’t realize he was the only one.

That was how she found herself awake at two in the morning on February 14th, her ill-chosen pop song ringtone cutting holes in her skull with a rusty knife. Tony’s face appeared on her Call ID, grinning like a fool. He was drunk when she took it. Kind of mean, but sometimes, she needed a laugh.

She hit accept. Reminding herself that she made more in a month than most people made in a year, she refrained from cursing him out and settled for a non-committal, “Good morning, Mr. Stark.”

“Club Forty on Eighth Avenue at six.”

“Excuse me?”

“Be at Club Forty on Eighth Avenue at six o’clock tonight. I’ll get Hogan to pick you up. Wear the most expensive outfit you have, and if you don’t have anything that’ll make you look suitably rich, buy whatever you need on my tab. Hogan will give you cash.”

“Wait, Mr. Stark, I don’t understand.” She made the fatal mistake of looking at her glowing blue clock radio. Now her eyes were about to explode. She rubbed them fiercely, struggling to keep them open. “You want me to go to a club?”

“Club Forty. Eighth Avenue. There’s going to be a charity bachelor auction and I need you to buy me.”

“...why?”

“Because if you don’t, Angelica Spooner will.”

“Who’s Angelica Spooner?”

“Some heiress I met at a party a few months ago. I was going to invite her back to my place, but it turns out, she’s kind of completely nuts and obsessed with me. So I must avoid her at all costs.”

“She can’t be that bad.”

“She showed up at my office the next day in a wedding dress.”

Okay, that was pretty bad.

“You know, there should be other women at the auction.” Pepper didn’t actually remember seeing that on Tony’s schedule. Knowing him, he agreed after his seventh daiquiri and failed to remember until yesterday. “There’s no guarantee she’ll win.”

“I’m not taking any chances.” Pepper heard clanking in the background. Sounded like he was elbow deep in a radiator again. “I’m sorry if you had plans-”

She didn’t, and they both knew it. She’d been between relationships since long before Stark Industries was on her radar.

“-but if you do this for me, I will give you anything you want. Extra pay, double vacation days, you name it. Just please, please-”

“Okay, relax. You don’t have to beg.” Not that she didn’t kind of enjoy it. “I’ll buy you at the auction and keep you far away from your bride-to-be.”

She could hear him shudder. “Thank you. I’ll get Hogan to pick you up at five. Unless you need to run some errands first? Get your hair done or something?”

“No, that’s fine.” Pepper ran her fingers through her hair and hit multiple knots. She pushed through and managed to only wince in pain. “I can get myself ready. See you tonight, Mr. Stark.”

“You are a dream, Ms. Potts.”

He hung up and Pepper stared at the phone, watching the time change from 2:32 to 2:33. Now there was a sign-off she’d never heard before. Once, in her first week of work, he told her her eyes sparkled when she laughed and left him mesmerized. She’d taken the compliment as it wasn’t about her ass or her breasts, but assumed it was just him being his usual self. Charming all the girls like a regular Casanova. Knowing she’d never in a million years say yes because that violated so many workplace regulations and just, in general, would be in poor taste.

Never did she think he actually meant it.

Because obviously, his type was elegant, classically beautiful Gwyneth Paltrow type women. Not mousy failed model Pepper Potts.

But the way he called her a dream, in the exact same tone of voice he used to wax poetic about her eyes, almost like he did find her as beautiful as those other girls. Almost like he had a whole different reason to ask her this favor.

Almost like…

Pepper rolled over and fell back asleep. By morning, she should be fully rested and returned to sanity.

**

Her nicest outfit was a midnight blue evening gown she bought herself as a Christmas gift. It was made of a material she didn’t know the name of but felt like wearing a waterfall. The neckline was on the lower end, but still presentable. The skirt molded to her body like a glove, flaring just a bit at the ankles. Pepper had yet to wear it, but the shopkeeper had insisted, in broken but passable English, that she was a dish in it and men would adore her.

Her doorman, a stone-faced man who could catch flies out of midair, swallowed his tongue as scrambled to open the door for her, and Hogan forgot how to speak for a few seconds as he tried his best not to stare at her.

The shopkeeper was right. Good.

She’d showered earlier in the day and given herself a simple updo. Her make-up was neatly applied and her nails cleaned and manicured. It was a quarter after five and there was nothing to do but get to the club with a half hour to spare.

Of course, traffic being what it was, she just barely made it before the clock struck six. Happy opened the door for her and handed her a platinum credit card.

“From Mr. Stark,” he said. “There’s fifty thousand on there. Should be more than enough to win the auction. Don’t worry, it’s in his name.”

“Thanks, Happy,” she said as the bouncer removed the velvet rope to allow her entry.

She checked her coat and entered the party. It was a swanky event devoid of the usual drunks grinding against each other to pounding dubstep beats. Instead, a pianist played a jazzy tune while men and women in their black-tie best sipped wine and talked about how great being rich was. Pepper recognized a few of them as Tony’s business partners. They greeted her warmly and she responded in kind. Nobody was looking to make conversation, so she found an empty seat near the stage without much trouble.

A man was at the podium organizing his notes. He was short and nearly bald with wire-rim glasses. When he coughed into the microphone, the feedback made Pepper’s ears ring.

“Attention everyone. The auction will begin in five minutes. Please retrieve a paddle from the front desk if you haven’t already.”

Pepper’s paddle was flat in her lap, made from polished cedar wood and lined with gold. Unnecessarily ornate to the highest degree, but all she could’ve expected from the one percent of the one percent.

More people were filing into the dining room now. So many new voices, it was impossible to pick out more than one or two at a time. She distinctly heard a husband and wife arguing over the former’s fixation on their twenty-something babysitter and a waiter rushing through the crowd with a drink in hand.

“Your margarita, Miss Spooner.”

Pepper turned all the way around in her seat. The waiter, grinning foolishly, handed the drink to a woman in a black sequin cocktail dress. She was blonde, leggy, and had boobs bigger than her head. Definitely Angelica.

Despite her objectively pretty face and clear skin, Pepper couldn’t say what made her especially attractive. She stared at the woman as long as she could without being noticed, and there wasn’t a single distinguishing feature to be found. Maybe it was just the distance.

A bell was rung, signaling the start of the night’s main event. The balding man had fixed the microphone and now spoke without causing physical or emotional damage.

“Thank you, everyone, for coming. We’d like to first take the opportunity to wish you all a happy Valentine’s Day. We hope tonight will be a night to remember.”

Some polite applause and then the balding man continued.

“We will begin with our charity bachelor auction. First up, we have Mr. Thomas Holloway, CFO, and co-founder of Datson-Holloway Incorporated. May I start the bidding at five thousand dollars?”

Pepper watched silently as each consecutive bachelor took the stage. She had no idea what Tony’s place in line was or where he was sitting. Most of the men came out from behind a curtain, so it was possible he was back there having as many drinks as he needed to stand before the crowd like a piece of meat and hopefully not go home with someone who probably had his name carved into her arm. Not once did she raise her paddle, earning a few inquisitive looks from the women around her.

“I’m waiting for someone,” she whispered when the stares wouldn’t stop.

Mr. Blake Matthews of Hammertech sold for a cool forty thousand. Then the room hitched a collective breath as the man of the hour appeared.

“Last, but certainly not least,” said the balding man, “Mr. Tony Stark needs no introduction. Let’s start the bidding off at-”

Every paddle was in the air. So was Angelica Spooner.

“Twenty thousand!”

A few paddles went down, but most were furiously waved. Tony’s eyes locked on Pepper, his smile turning horribly fake as a silently pleaded with her. This brought her back to the reason she was here and she rose to her feet.

“I bid twenty-five thousand,” she said.

Angelica Spooner looked like she wanted leap across the room and tear Pepper apart like a rabid cheetah.

“Thirty thousand,” she cried instead.

“Thirty thousand!” The balding man clapped his hands together. “Very good. Do I hear thirty-five thousand? Thirty-five thousand, anyone?”

“Thirty-five thousand,” a random woman in the audience yelled.

“Forty thousand,” said Angelica.

“Forty-five thousand!”

This was actually getting pretty exciting. Even Tony seemed to be enjoying himself. He flashed Pepper a thumbs up, emboldening her to put an end to this once and for all. The credit card burned through her dress into her skin. Fifty thousand dollars. Even the biggest spenders wouldn’t dare go that far all for one measly dinner date. Indeed, more than three-quarters of the paddles were down and what remained were only half as high as they had been.

Pepper didn’t dare look at Angelica, no matter how weirdly tempted she was to give the woman a smirk.

“Fif-”

“Seventy-five thousand dollars!”

A wave of gasps as Angelica pranced on stage and clung to Tony’s arm, so assured of her victory now that her insane bid was on the table. She whispered something in Tony’s ear. He turned snow white and couldn’t bother to fake smile anymore. Now, he just looked sick.

“Well, we have a real battle royale here tonight,” the balding man cheered. “All right, seventy-five thousand. Do I hear eighty thousand?”

Crickets. Pepper couldn’t move. Couldn’t speak. It didn’t matter in the slightest because Tony was her boss and a flirt and about as far from serious boyfriend-husband material one could get outside of convicted felons. Him going on a date with this woman meant nothing to her aside from the legal ramifications if she was as bad as Tony claimed. Otherwise, it was nothing she had any involvement in. Nothing she cared about.

He was just her boss.

But Angelica’s hands on his arm and her lips in his ear…

“No? All right.” The balding man prepared his gavel. “That’s seventy-five thousand dollars going once… going twice… s-”

“ONE HUNDRED THOUSAND!”

It didn’t sound like Pepper’s voice. If she hadn’t felt the vibrations in her throat, she wouldn’t have known it was her at all. Angelica’s eyes bugged out. Tony looked like he’d just seen Jesus. The balding man sputtered and nearly dropped his gavel.

“Wha- you- you can’t-” Pepper kind of liked how presumptuous Angelica had been in going on stage. In the proper lighting, it was now perfectly clear how unpretty she really was.

“That’s it,” a male voice snapped from the audience. Then a middle-aged man stood up. “Angelica, get down here. It’s over.”

“But daddy,” she whined, “you said-”

“I said no more than seventy thousand. No more. Now move. We’re going home.”

It took a few more seconds of pouting and clutching Tony’s arm with her tentacles, but finally, she uncurled herself and stomped off stage, muttering obscenities to herself.

The crowd was silent as father and daughter left the room. He could still be heard yelling at her for embarrassing him even as the balding man cleared his throat and brought the event back to order.

“All right. That was… well, I think it’s safe to say we have a winner! Sold to Virginia Potts for one hundred thousand dollars. Thank you so much, Ms. Potts.”

Pepper waved awkwardly as those daring enough to applaud whistled and whooped for her. She stepped towards the stage where Tony was shaking hands with the balding man. They left after Pepper handed over the card and signed a few papers promising to clean out her bank account to pay for a dinner with her boss. The whole process made her head spin and her stomach churn, even after Tony took the organizers aside and most likely arranged to cover the payment himself.

“Hell of a show there, Potts,” he said while they waited for Hogan to bring the car around.

“Tony, I’m so sorry,” she said, clutching her dress and leaving behind unsightly wrinkles. “I know I was only supposed to bid fifty thousand. I didn’t mean to let it get so out of hand.”

“What are you talking about? You did exactly what I told you to.”

“But you gave me fifty thousand and I ended up bidding twice that.”

“So? I have twelve more cards just like it. Even if I didn’t, I’d give every cent I have and most of my major organs not to go home with Alex Forrest over there.”

“That reminds me,” Pepper looked around but thankfully didn’t see Angelica anywhere. “What was she saying to you?”

Tony shivered as beads of sweat dripped down his face. “Let’s just say I’m really glad I don’t believe in love spells. And that I didn’t drink the wine.”

“Okay then,” Pepper took him by the arm without thinking. “Let’s get a move on.”

“Yes indeed,” Tony took a breath to calm himself down. “How does Monica’s sound to you. Or maybe the Dancing Goose?”

“What’s the Dancing Goose?”

“This little hole in the wall I found one night while bar hopping in college,” Tony said. “It’s a lot ritzier than it sounds and they make amazing crepes. I think it’s a great date location.”

“Are you saying we should actually go on a date?”

Tony shrugged. “I mean, you did spend one hundred thousand dollars on me. Just because I’m paying it doesn’t mean you shouldn’t get my money’s worth.”

Pepper tried not to laugh. She really did. “You know there are a few big reasons why you and I can’t date. Reasons which I have listed to you several times already.”

“Yeah, I was thinking we could skip that part and just go for the crepes.” Tony tried to look endearing and innocent with his puppy dog eyes. If Pepper was a giggling fangirl, it would’ve worked like a charm. When she didn’t break, he sighed. “Okay, tell you what, we go for a friendly dinner and talk about work and other boring stuff. So instead of being a couple, we’re just two co-workers chatting over a candlelit dinner on Valentine’s Day. Sound good?”

Part of Pepper wanted to say no, and not at all for the right reasons. “I suppose an impromptu work meeting in a public place followed by returning to our seperate homes at a reasonable hour would be all right.”

Tony slumped a little. “You sound like my junior prom date’s dad.”

“Or I could just go home.”

“No, no, friendly work not-date is fine. I can live with that.”

Happy arrived with the car and honked the horn. He didn’t say a word as they got in the backseat, which Pepper made a note to give him a good tip for. She sat several inches from Tony, nodding along as he sung the Dancing Goose’s praises, interspersed with directions on how to get there for Happy. As they pulled out, Pepper caught sight of Angelica out the rearview mirror. As she stormed down the steps with her father, her heel snapped on the bottom step, sending her plummetting forward. She landed face first in a puddle from the morning’s rainfall, ruining her hair and dress.

Pepper was not someone who took pleasure in other people’s suffering, she really wasn’t, but she couldn’t help the warm fuzzy feeling in her stomach as Angelica struggled to stand with tears running down her face. Nor could she stop herself from ‘accidentally’ laying her hand on Tony’s forearm and squeezing.

[queenkaneko]

Test of Faith

Pairing: Colt Kaneko x MC (Ellie)

Word Count: 2753

A/N: Surprise! I’m posting a day early this week! I’ve been debating this for a while but Thursdays are going to be the new day for this series. Fridays just get so crazy with all the books that air, so this works better for everyone. I am STILL working on getting a few chapters ahead of schedule so I don’t have to worry about not having a new chapter to post when life gets in the way. I recently moved from Texas to Florida and my life has been kind of crazy the last few weeks. I’m behind on all kinds of stuff. But bare with me, I promise to get caught up as soon as I can and I have great content coming. Anyway, same time as usual still, the only thing changing is the day. Sorry for the super long A/N. Enjoy!

Summary: Ellie has a crazy plan and isn’t as confident about it as she seems. When the rest of the crew shows up to help, will she be ready to do her part? 

Part Six 

The kitchen was dead silent, Colt staring at Ellie, who seemed unfazed as she went back to examining her laptop. He glanced at it, seeing she’d somehow managed to find the blueprints of Metropolitan Detention Center and was scribbling notes on her notepad. Colt was both amazed and worried at the same time, not knowing how he should feel that his girlfriend wanted to try and break someone out of jail. “Ellie this is insane. You know that, right?”

Ellie looked up, giving him a half smile. “I know. But what choice do we have? We need her, Colt. Not only that…she nearly died for me. I owe her this. She’s in there because of me.” Ellie felt her chest tighten, remembering Mona’s blood slicking her hands, the words she’d said to her outside Ardizzone ringing in her ears. “You wanted freedom? The fast cars, the bad boy? That whole life? This is it. And it’s not for you.” For the first time since she’d woken up before the sun with this idea in her head, she faltered. This would never work. Maybe Mona was right. Maybe she was in over head.

Suddenly, she felt like she couldn’t breathe. It was almost a year ago now, since she and Colt had argued in the private lounge of the casino. Ellie barely even thought about those words these days, they’d been replaced with memories of the last six months with him. But right now, feeling unsure of herself, they came rushing back. “At the end of this, your dad will take you back. He’ll welcome you home. You’ll go off to college and forget all this ever happened. You’re a tourist.” In a flash, Ellie pushed back from the table, not looking at him as she spoke. “I need some air.” She mumbled, grabbing her phone and heading for the door without a backwards glance.

Colt watched the emotions playing across her face, wondering what she was thinking. Just as he reached for her, she got up and walked out, leaving him staring after her bewildered. Only moments ago, she’d seemed so confident. The night before he’d seen a new side of her, and now she was clearly struggling again. Unsure of what he could do, Colt decided to give her some space, sliding the laptop toward him to do some digging of his own.

Outside, Ellie paced down the sidewalk dialing a number on her phone. A number she shouldn’t have, but somehow managed to uncover. After a few rings, Logan’s voice came from the other end. “Hello?” He asked, sounding wary, which was understandable since he wouldn’t recognize her own new number.

Ellie sighed in relief that he’d picked up. Colt was going to kill her, but at the end of everything, Logan had still become one of her closest friends. And she didn’t have many of those left with Riya and Darius living different lives off at their universities. She really needed him here. “Hi Logan.” Was all she said, sounding sheepish. He’d told her not to contact him. Not to look for him. But the FBI was gone now, it was safe enough.

The surprise in voice was obvious, he sounded like the wind had been punched out of him. “Ellie? Is that really you?” A long pause followed, the sound of his breathing all she could hear. “Ellie you know you shouldn’t call me. It isn’t safe.”

“Actually, that’s why I called. The FBI gave up. Something-” Her throat closed up as tears threatened to fall and she coughed to clear it. “Something happened. I’m uh...I’m still in L.A.” She explained, wrapping her free arm around her stomach to try and hold in her pain. “I’ll explain later. But it’s safe for you to come back, and...I’m helping Colt rebuild the crew. We’re planning something pretty big. Can you come home?” Ellie’s voice was sheepish and hopeful. This was always part of her and Colt’s plan. She’d convinced him they needed Logan, though he really didn’t like it, it wasn’t as if they had options lining up at the door. They couldn’t do this alone anymore, and even Colt couldn’t deny Logan was an excellent driver. Though he had definitely tried.

Logan was silent for so long Ellie thought he’d hung up. “Send me the address. I’ll be there as soon as I can.” The air whooshed out of her lungs as she sighed in relief. One down, four to go. At least she could do something right today.

“Thank you, Logan.” Ellie said, sincerity in her voice. She didn’t want to discuss the details over the phone, so they hung up and she texted him the address for the house in Fresno. She’d tell him about her dad, about the plan, when he got here. Ellie looked up and realized she was in front of a park. She walked over to a bench and sat down, watching a few young children playing and breathing in the fresh air of the valley. It was so peaceful here, the Sierra Nevada mountains peeking out of the clouds in the distance, she remembered coming here over the summer with her mom and dad. Her dad had taught her to swim in the pool in the backyard, taken her to this park, driven her up to those mountains--the first time she’d ever seen snow. A smile crept onto her face, she was finally calming down. After half an hour, Ellie headed back to the house.  

Feeling slightly better after her walk, Ellie walked into the garage that was attached to the house, immediately seeing Colt bent over the engine of their stolen Aylesbury. Colt heard the door open behind him and turned to see her walking in, looking slightly more relaxed but there was something clearly still on her mind. He grabbed a grease rag from the workbench beside him and wiped the grime off his hands, looking her over. “You alright?”

Slowly, Ellie approached, unable to look him in the eye. “Colt I need to ask you something.” She had to bring this up now. She couldn’t avoid it anymore, the words rattling in her mind were shaking her confidence and not knowing was doing more damage than anything he could say to justify them. Ellie needed to figure this out or she’d second guess herself in the heat of the moment, and that was something they couldn’t afford on a job like this. She was directly in front of him now, one arm crossed over her body holding the other, looking at the floor. Taking a deep breath, she looked up, meeting his inquisitive gaze. “D-Did you mean it? That night in the casino, when you called me a tourist? I asked you then if that was what you thought of me, but you didn’t answer.”

The color drained from Colt’s face and he was quiet for a long moment, thinking. Thinking how much of an ass he’d been back then. Thinking how devastated she’d looked when he said that too. Thinking he was still and ass for not apologizing sooner. He remembered how his dad never showed any weakness for anyone, not even him, and how Ellie had showed him that was no way to live. That it wasn’t a strength but a weakness. Colt had spent so long trying to fill his dad’s shoes, he’d taken on the negative qualities as well as the positive. Her words came back to him from that night outside the burning garage, “I’m just saying his life, and yours, would’ve been so much better if he’d shown you how much he cared.” He was still in unfamiliar territory here, but the way she’d looked at him at the casino, the way she was looking at him now, he’d do anything to fix that. Finally, he spoke, barely above a whisper. “No.” That syllable was so hard for him to say, weighed down by shame and sorrow, but he continued anyway. “No, I didn’t. I was just… I had to get you out of there. So I lied.” Colt pushed a hand through his hair and looked away from her, out the small window of the garage. “I lied from the beginning. I didn’t want to involve you in that plan in the first place, but we didn’t have a choice. When you left, you were safe. And seeing you there that night, I panicked. I said what I said to push you away. You were in danger and you were my weakness Ellie. If you were there, I wasn’t sure if I could pull off the plan.”

Ellie nodded, understanding, but the hurt wouldn’t go away. “I guess I wish you’d just been honest with me. That you’d trusted me the way I trusted you.” She reached out and put a hand on his arm, getting him to look at her again. “We have to be in this together, and I thought we were until then. But now…” Her voice trailed off and Colt nodded, reaching out to brush her hair behind her ear.

“I know, Elle. And…” He paused, swallowing hard and taking a deep breath. “And I’m sorry. I’m sorry for what I said. I’m sorry for not being honest with you sooner. I’m sorry for making you feel like you weren’t enough. Because nothing could be further from the truth. I hurt you by trying to save you when you didn’t want to be saved.” Colt’s hands gently gripped her waist and he pulled her closer. “You’re my queen, and I never should’ve given you a reason to doubt that.” Colt tried to smile a little, tried to remind her of the promises he’d made her and that he intended to keep.

With a short laugh, Ellie placed her hands on his chest, feeling his racing heart under her hands. “I suppose I should be used to your temper by now. I just… I had to know before we do this. And I know this plan is insane, but we can do it. As long as we believe in each other. Okay?” Colt nodded, dropping a kiss to her forehead in another, silent, apology. “I love you, you asshole.” Ellie leaned back and smirked at him.

Colt grinned and held her closer by the hips. “Love you too, crazy.” They held each other for several long moments, not saying anything. Colt still felt terrible for making her doubt herself but all he could do now is show her he believed in her, and he would make sure he did. After a while, Ellie took a deep breath and slipped her fingers into the hairs on the back of his neck, running the strands through her fingers to soothe him before she told him about Logan.

“There’s...something else.” She started, a little worried about his reaction. Sure, they’d agreed to call Logan and offer him his old spot on the crew, but Ellie calling him alone would more than likely make Colt jealous. “I called Logan. He’s uh...he’s on his way here. Said he’d be here in a day or two after he tied up some loose ends.” She felt Colt’s body go tense in her arms, but he nodded.

“Alright...Good. We should probably call X and Toby too. We’re going to need all the help we can get.” Colt pushed aside the old feelings of jealousy as best he could. Ellie was his now, and he had to trust that. He had to trust her. They needed Logan, as much as they needed Ximena and Toby, to break Mona out of a medium security prison in the middle of downtown L.A.

A week later, Colt, Ellie, Toby, Logan, and Ximena all stood around the pool table of the safehouse. Colt and Ellie were standing on one side, explaining the plan while pointing out key points on a blueprint in front of them. “So, Toby and X will stay in the car at the escape point here.” Colt explained, gesturing to a side exit of the prison that was relatively hidden from the main security of the facility. “Toby, you’ll wait for my signal and put the cameras on a loop so no one can see Logan and I while we find Mona. We’ll do it in sections.” Next, his eyes fell on Logan. “Once we get her, we’ll need you to take the wheel. Can you get us out of there in under a minute?” Colt asked him.

Logan nodded, arms folded and eyebrows furrowed as he studied the blueprint. “If Toby can make sure that gate is open, I can get us out in time.” He answered, pointing to a gate near the escape point that lead out to the main road.

“Fantastic.” Colt replied, a little sarcastic. “Ellie will stay here and monitor the feeds for any surprises and help Toby if he needs it. She’ll be in all our ears with these.” He picked up a box from the corner of the table that held several small earpieces.  

Toby sat on a nearby couch, pulling his laptop out of his backpack and opening it on his lap. “I’ll start getting familiar with their security. I’ll bet I can find some weak points.”

Colt leaned back and crossed his arms, looking at Ximena next. “X, I need you to be ready to take Toby and get the hell out if anything goes wrong. If we’re followed on the way out, we might also need your help taking out a guard or two, but let’s hope it doesn’t come to that. This plan is solid, and if we all do our jobs, Mona will be here with us for what comes next.”

“So...we’re really doing this? I mean, I know we’ve pulled some risky jobs in the past, but this is...this is next level. Are you sure about this plan, Colt?” Ximena asked, looking unsure.

Glancing at Ellie for a split second, Colt nodded firmly. “Yeah. I’m sure.”

Logan sighed, pushing a hand through his long hair as he leaned over the blueprint. “Well I suppose we’d better study up. We’ve got a lot to get done. How much time do we have before this goes down?”

Ellie stepped forward, clearing her throat and speaking up for the first time that night. “Two months. There’s a benefit being held for the prison’s donors then. Most of the high-profile security personnel will be in attendance. They’ll be understaffed for a few hours, that’s when we go in.” She paused, taking a moment to look at each of them in turn. “I know this is risky, it’s not something any of us have experience in and a lot could go wrong. But we need Mona and it isn’t fair for her to be locked up. Not when she nearly died for me. I understand that it’s a lot to ask, but I wouldn’t ask if we could do this any other way. I’m confident in our plan, as long as all of us are ready, we can do this.”

A silence fell over the room as everyone processed the information. After a moment, Toby piped up from the couch. “So...apparently no one else is gonna ask, but Ellie we thought you were going to college. What happened?”

Ellie froze, eyes going wide. She expected this, of course. But with Logan, Toby and Ximena’s eyes all on her, the words wouldn’t come. That pain she’d buried over the last six months, her own insecurities about this way of life, and the dream of going to college that had slowly dissolved from the time she’d backed out of the summer program until finally reaching a breaking point following her father’s death all slammed into her chest at once like a tidal wave. “I...um…” The words wouldn’t come, her throat closed up, tears threatening to spring from her eyes.

Thankfully, blessedly, Colt spoke up for her. “It doesn’t matter right now. What matters is the job. Once we get Mona out safely, we’ll explain everything. But for now, just focus on learning every inch of this prison. We have time on our side for once, so let’s use it wisely. Okay?” He shifted a little closer to Ellie, staring down the others as if daring them to push the issue. No one did.

There was a moment of awkward silence before Toby spoke up again. “Alright...well we’re gonna need some dinner. Who’s up for pizza?”

Tags: @poeticscolt @courtesan-of-garage @nazariortega @lovehugsandcandy @maxwellsquidsuit @brightpinkpeppercorn @i-only-signed-up-for-fanfiction @postcardfromsomewhere @walkerduchess @zaira-oh-zaira @umiumichan @long-gone-girl @leelee10898 @client-327 @desiree-0816 @choicesarehard

[distressedpanda]

Her Song (Loki X OFC) Part 6

Warnings: Language, Mentions of Blood

A/N: I actually made it on time guys! Hooray!

As always let me know if you want to be tagged.

Tags: @whosaidididthat​

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5

"So how is my brother?" Thor's voice boomed across the training room. 

Iloa had been training with Thor for the past few days, Natasha having gone out on a private solo mission. Not having to hold back against him, she had enjoyed the change of strength and pace, until today. Now he was incessantly asking questions about her and his brother's non-existent relationship. It had been almost two weeks since he had opened up to her, in this very training room. The evidence still present on the wall, to the disappointment of a very disgruntled Tony Stark. Eleven days, six hours, three minutes and no telling how many seconds, since the mission that had both pushed them closer together and had somehow torn them further apart. But hey who's counting?

She panted from the exertion and hurled a Kunai at Thor's head to get him to shut up. He flicked the blade away effortlessly with Mjölnir, "Touchy subject?" he asked nonchalantly, grinning ear to ear. 

She blew her hair out of her face, "I wouldn't know, Thor. Haven't spoken to him since the Russia assignment."

He chuckled, "I thought he would have spoken to you by now," he jabbed at what, he was unaware, was an open wound.

She screamed at him and he went down on one knee holding his head. She was on him in an instant, Kunai at his throat, "I am not his keeper, you asshole!" Moving the dagger, she shoved his head down and walked back to her side of the room squaring off at him again.

He chuckled again without mirth, returning to his feet. "Remind me not to get on your bad side."

"Again?" she asked. Extracting a new Kunai from her belt, she lifted her arms adopting a fighting stance. She watched his muscles tense, preparing to charge. 

Lifting Mjölnir to his side, he let out a fierce battle cry and was on her in a few steps. Dipping and sliding under his swing, she slashed at his side narrowly missing doing real damage. Instead, the dagger tore a large hole in his shirt.

He righted himself, pulling at the hem of the shirt to inspect the damage. "I really liked this shirt," he whined, but was still grinning.

"Quit pissing me off and I won't do the same to your jeans," she baited him.

He attacked again, swinging the hammer down at her. "Have you told him yet?"

He was trying to distract her and it almost worked, she narrowly missed the swing. Spinning her body away, just in time. Of course, there was no real danger. Anytime Thor saw that she couldn't escape getting hit, he would halt the hammer short of making contact with her.

She stood up a few feet away from the God panting heavily but not from the fight. She was agitated to say the least. He was the only person in the tower that knew her full story. Where she came from, what she was. “Don't you think if he knew, we wouldn't be having this conversation?” She snarled at him, then tried to reign in her anger, “I dropped a hint once, but he didn't take the bait. I even told him point blank that I wasn't a mortal. Twice. I am just not interested in fighting him to let him know.”

“You are his Disir, you most know that now,” he argued.

“Stop,” she screamed, Thor crumpled again. Holding his head in his hands, Mjölnir falling heavily to the floor. She breathed heavily, fighting the anger building in her mind. Taking deep steadying breaths, her hands trembled, gripping the daggers in a white knuckle grasp as she fought for control. She couldn't lose control, not here. She was afraid of hurting everyone in the tower, not just the pig-headed man on the ground before her that couldn't keep his mouth shut.

Thor looked up at her, “I am sorry,” he apologized, leaning back to a seated position. Still messaging his temples, the pain didn't stop him from adding, “But you know it's true.”

Iloa had had enough, turning on her heels, she ripped the belt from her waist tossing it and the Kunai in her hands on the ground next to the door. Exiting the room, she heard him call one last time, “You are only mad because I am right!”

She grit her teeth, grumbling under her breath about how he could take his damned prophecy and shove it up his ass. Rounding a corner, she came up short.

Loki, was at the other end of the hall, nose buried in a book. His brow furrowed in concentration, as he was reading and walking towards her. In a green button down the same shade as his eyes, black slacks, and patent leather shoes, tapping lightly on the floor. Beautiful just wasn't a strong enough word for the vision of elegance before her.

Her breath caught in her throat, Thor's words ringing in her ears. She wasn't even sure she understood what a Disir was anyway. When Thor had first met her, he had told her what she was. She had spent far too many years on this earth wondering why she had stopped aging. She was stronger, faster, more agile and durable, with quicker reflexes and more stamina than anyone she had encountered before. Then her ability had shown itself, throwing her into even more confusing territory.

It had never made sense to her, until Thor had forced her to let him explain. But now standing there with a quickly approaching Loki, this information meant nothing if he wouldn't even talk to her. She crossed her arms over her chest, stepping into his path. But as he got close to her, he stepped around her never looking up from the book in his hands. 

She dropped to her knees, hands on the floor barely holding herself up. He couldn't have hurt her more if he had actually hit her. Acting like she didn't exist was so much worse. She curled in on herself, her heart ripping from her chest and following the man walking away from her.

She didn't bother fighting the tears that flowed freely down her cheeks. She was so angry at Thor, confused about Loki, hurt by his actions and the fact that she could very well be his Disir. She was a raw ball of mixed emotions and she couldn't fight them anymore. She sat back against the wall, pulling her legs to her chest and wrapping her arms around them. She sobbed, bowing her head into the private space her curled body created.

She wasn't sure how long she sat there, it felt like an eternity. She had stopped sobbing, reducing herself to small sniffles, a while ago. Slowly she lifted her head, wiping at her eyes.

Thor and Loki were sitting across from her, the former staring at her with sad eyes. While the latter with his arms and ankles crossed, looking anywhere but at her. 

She yelped at suddenly seeing them there, and both men groaned in pain. She couldn't make herself feel sorry though. She ducked her head and looked away from the two, letting her hair shield her face. “What are you doing here?” she croaked out of her emotionally raw throat.

Thor cleared his throat, “Loki has something he wishes to say to you.”

She scoffed at the idea. 

Silence reigned in the hall and she was having none of that. Abruptly rising to her feet, she headed down the hall away from the pair. Her wrist was grabbed, and she immediately yanked herself free, whirling on whichever of the two had touched her.

Loki stood there, his arm still outstretched. The familiar electricity unable to reach her through the raw mixed emotions thrashing around her brain. Like living creatures trying to tear her apart. He slowly drew back, sliding his hands in his pockets awkwardly. He started to chew on his bottom lip, which aggravated her further. She crossed her arms, glaring at him, “What?!” she shouted.

Loki felt that single word with all the force she had delivered it with. He actually stumbled back reaching out to the wall to keep himself up right. He didn't want this. It was better for them both, if they had nothing more to do with each other. He couldn't bear to lose her in any form. But he knew that because she was just a mortal, if he allowed himself to let these feelings form fully in his heart, it would hurt even more when she died. The mission had made that perfectly clear.

He tried to form a sentence, to tell her these things. To be truthful to this woman that meant so much to him already. Unfortunately, he just stood there gaping foolishly, unable to utter even a syllable. 

She turned again, but Thor had overtaken her and was standing in her way. Her hands formed fists at her sides, “Thor, you are already on my shit list. If you don't get out of my way this instant, I will kill you,” she breathed the warning.

Thor raised his hands defensively taking a step back, “Okay, but listen,” he didn't get to finish, because Loki scoffed.

Iloa turned her burning sapphire gaze back to him and this time she was eerily calm. Loki was unnerved by her appearance, flinching away.

“Hey, back over here,” Thor begged, trying to keep his voice calm and assuring despite the tremble there. “Focus on me Iloa,” she drew her steely gaze back to him and he flinched too. “You have to calm down or you are gonna tear this entire building apart.” He kept his voice soft and gentle. She started to breathe more evenly, closing her eyes and concentrating on stamping out the raging fire burning through her veins.

Loki's brow knitted together, his brother was not just scared of the girl, he was terrified. He opened his mouth to ask but Thor cut in again, “Brother, please stop talking, unless you want us all to die.”

He couldn't stop the question from falling from his lips, “How can she kill us? We are Gods.”

There was just enough snark in that question, to reignite the fire in Iloa. She turned to him again but Thor stepped between them just as she began to hum at Loki. Loki crumbled to the floor, holding his head and screaming in pain. The walls around them, started groaning and shaking. The fluorescent lights in the ceiling flickering, as the ceiling started to splinter and crack. Loki could hear the building protesting at her power. All this did was further confuse him, as he fought to save his life with his seiðr.

Thor started over, “Iloa, look at me please. You have to stop or you will kill him,” Thor looked down at Loki writhing in pain on the floor. Blood had started flowing from his ears. “Please, Iloa,” he begged. “You will never be able to live with yourself, if you hurt him. If you bring this building down, you will kill everyone here. Don't think about him. Focus on, Tony and Steve, Banner and Natasha. She is back home now. I know she is you best friend here, right? You don't want to hurt all of them do you?”

A tear rolled down her cheek, she exhaled loudly. Everything stopped moving and Thor breathed a sigh of relief, crouching to check on Loki. His pain had stopped but Thor had no way of knowing how much damage had been done. He looked back up to Iloa but she was gone.

“How did she do that?” Loki asked through grit teeth, “She is just a mortal.”

Thor rolled his eyes, deciding whether to leave the idiot on the ground or not. “She isn't a mortal, you fool,” exasperated, he knew it wasn't his story to tell. But he'd had enough of this repetitive fight between the two. 

That seemed to clear Loki's mind enough to be astonished, “What?”

Thor chuckled, “She is an Asgardian, just like me. Well, not just like me,” he admitted.

Things started to make sense to Loki. She had mentioned that there was more to her than he knew. Had even stated that she was more than a mortal, more than once. But of course, being true to form, he had stubbornly never allowed her to explain. He hadn't bothered to earn the answers either. She had lived through being mortally wounded, only needing a 'nap' to fully recover. He sighed, sitting up slowly. Wiping the blood dripping down his neck, off with his sleeve and the back of his hands.

Thor watched him with worried eyes but Loki waved him off. “I was able to keep her from doing permanent damage with my seiðr.” He dropped his head into his hands, “I am a fool.”

Thor lent his head back against the wall, staring up at the ceiling, absently inspecting the fissure cracks that had formed there, “Yep,” was all he had to say to his brother.